




























Class ~P Z a 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 






THE BIG FISH 


4 




What did I say?” I asked, drawing her gently to me. 

Fhontispiece. See page 


THE BIG FISH 


BY 

H. B. MARRIOTT WATSON 

ir 

AUTHOR OF "HURRICANE ISLAND,” “ ALISE OF ASTRA,” 
“ THE CASTLE BY THE SEA,” ETC. 


WITH FRONTISPIECE BY 

F. VAUX WILSON 


BOSTON 

LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 
1912 



Copyright , 1911, 1912 , 

By Little, Brown, and Company. 
— ♦— 

All rights reserved 

Published, April, 1912 



THE UNIVERSITr PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. 


©CI.A309830 




CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

I In the Auction Room 1 

II The Lacquered Box 17 

III We Strike a Bargain 34 

IV The Beginning of the Trail 51 

V The Law of the Wild 69 

VI The Recovery 92 

VII A Parting of the Ways 109 

VIII The Cliff 120 

IX What Happened in the Starlight . . 134 

X The Right Bower 148 

XI The Two Camps 167 

XII The Ruins at Astarnok 178 

XIII The Priest 189 

XIV The Conference 202 

XV An Amazing Development 216 

XVI Mercedes 232 


VI 


CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

XVII The Cleft in the Rocks 250 

XVIII The Bombardment 267 

XIX Prisoners and Captives 281 

XX The Surprise 297 

XXI The Black Lake 309 


THE BIG FISH 


CHAPTER I 

IN THE AUCTION BOOM 

I HAD left my club that day somewhere between 
three and four of the afternoon, and I made my 
way northward through the narrow channel of Bond 
Street as far as Oxford Circus. There I deflected 
my course and wandered in a leisurely way down 
Oxford Street. It had been sultry and overcast all 
that full summer day, with an ominous blackness in 
the east ; and now the murk opened, wreaths of white 
scud fringing it like feathers, and the storm belched 
on London. Within ten minutes the gutters were 
flooded and the pavements awash. The storm was 
tropical in its intensity. It was England’s idea of 
a summer — two fine days — you know the adage. 
While here was the thunder-storm, with a cataclysm. 

The streets cleared in a twinkling; there were 
flying flashes of raiment, a surge of black coats, the 
noise of splashing and trampling, and then emptiness, 
silence save only when Heaven blared overhead in 
rolling volleys of thunder. I took refuge at the 
outset in the open auction room. 

You know these Oxford Street rooms in which a 
conspicuous sale is conducted from year’s end to the 


2 The Big Fish 

other. Auctioneers, public, and lots take their places 
in relays, but the sale goes on for ever. It is im- 
mortal; it is a never-pausing stream. All ranks, all 
walks of life, all trades and callings contribute to 
its flow and volume. Here is a bankrupt stock, here 
are the superfluities of rich houses, here are the house- 
hold goods of departing families, here, too, are the 
effects of estates wound up 44 by order of the ex- 
ecutors.” China collections and select and valuable 
possessions find their way naturally to the superior 
marts of world-wide fame; but these establishments 
deal with average and ordinary chattels, and deal 
with them on a generous, wholesale, large-handed 
scale. 

The press of people who either were potential pur- 
chasers, or had like myself sought refuge from the 
rain, was considerable. I looked about me idly. A 
sleek, hawk-faced, dark auctioneer, with an ingrati- 
ating manner, on the rostrum, rows of indifferent 
faces, a steam and smell of damp clothes, a passive- 
visaged man mechanically displaying before the ros- 
trum a couple of ugly, modern, china vases — there 
was nothing here that would have suggested for a 
moment any connection with romance. It was a 
dull, prosaic scene such as was witnessed all day and 
every day in haunts of this kind. . . . 

Against a wall stood several pieces of furniture, 
tables, chairs, bureaus and the like, each with its 
number. They were 44 lots ” ; this was the house of 
lots. Upon one of the tables was a small, lacquered 
box, obviously J apanese and apparently of some 
antiquity. Most of the furniture 44 going,” as the 


In the Auction Room 3 

phrase is, was crudely modern, useful no doubt, but 
raw in its modernity. I think that was why I took 
notice of the box, which was labelled 301. A lane 
opened in the crowd just then, and I pushed along 
it toward the door beyond which the gloom seemed 
lifting; but I had not gone very far when a crack 
shattered the sky right above us, and the rain 
streamed out of the wrack fiercer than ever. It 
splashed and leaped from the pavement. Clearly the 
street was no place for any pedestrian just yet. 

I turned back, this time upon the other side of the 
room, and by the opposite wall. Here, too, furniture 
was disposed in a more or less orderly array. 

“ What shall I say for this ? ” 

“ By your leave, gentlemen, if you please.” 

The auctioneer with his stereotyped smile was 
brandishing a hammer. Two assistants, having cut 
their way through the crowd, were carrying off a 
sideboard towards the rostrum. 

“ What shall we say for this? ” 

The press closed again about the departing side- 
board, and I found myself pushed against an oak 
writing-table, heavily carved by modern German 
hands. The edge stuck into my side, and I twisted 
about, and saw what rested on it. It was a lacquered 
box of a similar pattern to that upon the other side 
of the room. “ Lot 346 ” was inscribed upon it. I 
wondered by what clerical stupidity the two had been 
dissociated. To bracket the two pieces in one lot 
was the obvious thing to do. I picked this one up 
and examined it. It seemed to me, judging from 
what small knowledge I had of antiques, to have been 


4 


The Big Fish 

a lady’s toilet box. Its lid opened with a key and 
showed two compartments, in one of which was a 
little brass pot which, recently used for ink, had once 
probably held powder or paint. I closed the lid, and 
looked out at the street. A clap of thunder burst, it 
seemed, at the very door. I shrugged my shoulders, 
and turned my attention to the man in the rostrum. 

“ Any advance on thirty-one and six ? ” The ham- 
mer fell softly. 

“ Lot 301 ; an antique Japanese lacquer-work box. 
Here you have it, gentlemen, a very fine specimen of 
oriental work, as any one can see. The price of 
Japanese work is advancing every year. This is 
real old work. Pass it round, Williams.” 

The mechanical assistant moved within his narrow 
confines from verge to verge, with the box I had 
noticed on the other side of the room upon his up- 
raised and flattened palm. 

“ What shall we say? ” invited the auctioneer. 

The room had thinned just about me, and some 
paces in front I noticed two men in conversation. 
One was a short, moon-faced, rubicund fellow, square 
of body and thickset, heavy limbed and dwarfed, with 
a suggestion of physical power. The other was lean 
and tall, with a scanty, uneven beard grizzled in parts, 
and a fidgety way with him in his talk as he bent over 
his companion and gesticulated. My eyes were on 
this strangely assorted pair when I saw the square- 
set man open his mouth. 

“ Thirty bob.” 

The bidding passed from him to others, and 
mounted by shillings. It was evident that the 


In the Auction Room 5 

auctioneer had either no great opinion of the lot, 
or no hope of the audience. 

“ Thirty-six I ’m bid.” 

The square-set man had been engaged in talk with 
his friend, and now nodded at the rostrum. 

“ Thirty-seven, thank you. Thirty-eight there, in 
two places.” 

The lean man gesticulated again. It looked as if 
he were urging his companion to bid again, but the 
latter only grinned, and shook his head. At forty 
some one flagged the bidding, and then the thickset 
man stepped in. 

“ Forty-five,” he said deliberately. 

“Forty-five! Thank you.” The auctioneer ac- 
cepted the jump with a bow. He recognized a 
determined purchaser. So apparently did the spec- 
tators, for no opposition was offered — the hammer 
fell at forty-five. The thickset man had employed 
exemplary tactics. 

A few minutes later they had disappeared. The 
sale was grinding on its way. Outside the rain was 
clearing off, and I should be at liberty in a few 
minutes. If the rain had ceased five minutes earlier 
— well, it is idle work to speculate on the chances of 
fortune which are only chances because we do not 
understand them. 

The auctioneer was consulting his clerk in inaudible 
exchanges. 

“ Three hundred and thirty, three hundred and 
thirty-one, down to three hundred and forty-five, no 
lot, gentlemen. Three hundred and forty-six, a — 
oh, an antique lacquered box. Get it, Williams.” 


6 The Big Fish 

The man was hunting in my neighborhood and 
passed me with the second box from the oak bureau. 

44 Why, it ’s the twin of the one we had just now. 
Well, what shall we say? Shall we start it where the 
other left off? ” 

Some one bid a sovereign; and by shillings the 
price advanced to thirty shillings. It seemed cheap 
at that, and I jumped into the competition. My bid 
was swept up by the auctioneer, and swamped at 
once. I was at one end of the see-saw up to thirty- 
eight shillings, and then, following the example set 
by the dwarf, I leaped to two guineas. The tactics 
answered in this case also. At two guineas I became 
the owner of the 44 antique Japanese lacquered box.” 

By the time I had paid over my money to the clerk, 
and secured my purchase, the sky had cleared, and I 
went toward the door. I was vaguely conscious of 
the dwarf again, and realized that he was engaged in 
conversation with the auctioneer’s clerk. I was there- 
fore astonished to find both him and his friend, the 
lean man, planted in my path before the door. 

44 1 reckon, sir, we ’d like to do a deal with you 
over what you carry there,” blurted out the lean man. 
He spoke in a high-pitched, rasping voice, which some- 
how rubbed me the wrong way, and I daresay my ex- 
pression showed my antagonism, for the other thrust 
him into the background with a gesture. His voice 
was soft, soothing, and equably rich. 

44 Excuse me, sir, I purchased a lacquered box in 
here a little while ago. Inadvertently I overlooked 
the other. They were a pair and I lost the other by 
a piece of stupidity, for which I have only myself to 


In the Auction Room 7 

thank. I learned from the clerk that you had the 
second box and I thought you might be open to an 
offer.” He waved his big fat hand to the lean man 
with a smile. 44 My friend is an enthusiastic con- 
noisseur.” 

The explanation sufficed, but as I looked at them I 
was once more affected by the oddness of their con- 
junction. The lean man’s eyes were hungry and 
even threatening, as I interpreted them. I shifted 
the lacquered box under my arm in a leisurely way. 

“ I ’m very sorry,” I said, 44 but I took a fancy 
to this box.” 

The broad man looked at me whimsically. 44 So 
did I,” he said. 44 1 suppose it ’s a question of price, 
isn’t it? I’m willing to give you double your bid 
to make a match for my mantelpiece.” 

Four guineas ! I was n’t tempted in the least. I 
only had the desire to see what would follow on my 
refusal. 

44 1 really have a fancy for it,” I demurred. 44 You 
know what a collector is.” 

44 It is precisely because I do that I ’m going to 
make the offer six guineas,” he said, with a friendly 
smile. 

44 1 ’m afraid that would n’t tempt me,” I answered, 
smiling also. 

He still smiled. 44 What price would you put on 
it, sir? ” 

44 1 want it,” I said bluntly, determined to carry 
the bargaining to its uttermost limit. 

44 The other box is of no use to me without its 
mate,” said he. 44 Will you take ten guineas?” 


8 


The Big Fish 


“ No.” 

“Fifteen?” he said, in his mellow voice. 

“ I J m sorry.” I moved as if to depart, but the 
lean man plucked his friend by the shoulders. His 
eyes were malicious and gleaming. 

“ Thank you very much,” said the square man 
with imperturbable politeness, paying no heed to this 
intervention. “ I must apologize for troubling you.” 
He moved a step or two with the other clinging to 
his arm, and then turned again. “ There is one 
thing I might ask of your courtesy,” he said, as if 
on an afterthought. “ Might I examine yours? I 
should like to see if the details of the work vary, and 
in what particulars.” 

“ Why, certainly,” I replied, and would have un- 
wrapped my possession, but he stopped me. 

“ Pardon me, this is rather a crowded place, and 
I should be loath to inconvenience you. Would you 
mind crossing the road to the tavern there? It will 
not detain you more than a few minutes.” 

“ I am at your service,” I said, moved to this 
assent by a strong curiosity, which has always been 
characteristic of me. 

We passed out together, crossed, and entered the 
wineshop, where we took seats about a small table. 
The dwarf called the waiter, and in a twinkling we 
had each a glass of champagne before us. I un- 
wrapped the box, which the dwarf took. 

“ This is very good of you,” he said. “ My name 
is Werner.” 

“ Mine is Poindexter,” said I. 

The lean man murmured something in his rasping 


9 


In the Auction Room 

voice, but I did not catch what it was. I assumed 
he also was proffering the compliment of his name. 
While his friend scrutinized the box, I examined 
both. The lean man was roughly dressed in a 
Bohemian way, and wore a broad-brimmed hat; the 
other was tailored to a nicety, as far as his ex- 
traordinary frame would allow. He was scrupulously 
in fashion, which seemed to me rather ridiculous ; for 
I could imagine him only rolling on a ship’s deck, 
where his breadth and stability of bulk would con- 
ceivably have been of advantage to his balance. 

44 Yes,” said he, opening the lid and eyeing the 
interior carefully, 44 I thought it. Maddock, let us 
have a look at the other, will you? ” 

At that Maddock opened the loose coat which 
covered his meager chest, and produced out of a 
huge inner pocket the second lacquered box, or rather 
the one I had seen first. The two were set on the 
table before me. They seemed to be identical in 
appearance. 

44 You see, Mr. Poindexter,” said Werner, with a 
rueful smile, 44 why I was anxious to secure yours. 
They are an absolute match.” 

“ I ’m sorry,” said I lightly ; 44 can I make a bid 
for yours? ” 

44 I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. 44 One with- 
out the other — I would n’t mind raising my offer 
to twenty.” 

Both looked at me. I shook my head; why I re- 
fused I do not know. I believe it was mainly out of 
devilment. There was no doubt that twenty guineas 
was vastly in excess of the box’s value. 


10 The Big Fish 

Werner took it very well, I thought. He hunched 
his huge, square shoulders and smiled. 

“ Anyway,” he said, “ it sha’n’t spoil a pleasant 
meeting. We ’ll have another go round.” 

He rapped on the table and the waiter appeared. 
It would have been ungracious to deny him in the 
circumstances, and I accepted the offer of another 
glass, which I did not need nor want. 

The two boxes were side by side upon the table 
and my eyes went over them. Now I have not been 
specially equipped by fate for the battle of life, and 
in a “ rough-and-tumble ” I don’t know that I should 
have emerged successfully. Happily I have been 
spared the chances of a struggle for life. But I 
have always had two primitive qualities, which I once 
foolishly hoped would lead me far in the diplomatic 
service. However, they don’t need primitive prop- 
erties there. Mine are a very excellent memory for 
faces, and — I suppose what that springs from — a 
very accurate and acute observation. I sum up with 
my eyes swiftly ; I have the trick of keeping the items 
in my mind; and I can call upon them at will for 
recognition. So, examining those two boxes with a 
little more care than I had hitherto displayed, I noted 
a slight difference between them. It was only a trifling 
variation in the flight of lacquered birds on the lid, 
the deviation of a tail, and seemed to me of no sig- 
nificance. When I looked up again, as the waiter 
brought the bottle, Werner was gazing towards the 
bar in the distance, and mechanically my eyes followed 
his. A few people stood about it, and drank, and ate 
cheese and biscuits, and talked. One of these, who, 


In the Auction Room 11 

however, had no companion for conversation, was a 
man of forty odd dressed quietly in gray. His face, 
as he turned sideways from the bar to drink of his 
glass, came into profile, and I remembered that I had 
noticed him casually in the auction room. 

44 Well, here ’s health and wealth,” said Werner, 
raising his glass. 

I echoed the toast, and, as we set down the glasses, 
Werner said suddenly: 

44 By the way, Maddock, I never looked up that 
train. There ’s a time-table hanging up there. 
Would you mind getting it? ” 

Now the time-table hung just beyond me on the 
wall, and I could easily have reached it. Maddock 
rose, and bent forward, but I was before him. I 
turned and unhitched the book from its nail, and 
handed it to Werner. 

44 Many thanks,” he said, and opened it. 

At the bar I could see the man whom I had recog- 
nized, now full face towards us, munching a biscuit 
abstractedly. Werner shut the book. 

44 Six thirty-five,” he said. 44 That ’ll do nicely.” 
He drained the glass, and I followed suit, and we 
both rose. 

44 Better stick that back in your pocket, Maddock,” 
said he, with an indifferent gesture towards the boxes. 
Maddock put a hand out to the one near him, but 
my hand was already upon it. 

44 This is mine,” I said. I had unconsciously regis- 
tered, you see, that difference in the tail feathering. 

44 Ours was this side ! 99 declared Maddock rather 
shortly. 


12 The Big Fish 

Werner was regarding us thoughtfully. 

44 Is it ? ” he inquired. 

I opened the box, and showed the ink-stained bottle. 
The bottle in the other had been clean. 

“ Well, I should n’t have known the difference. To 
me they ’re as like as two pins,” he said, smiling. 
44 Sorry, Mr. Poindexter. An unusual name, yours.” 

He looked meditative, but I seemed to be aware 
that his tone and mien held some message for his 
excitable companion. 

44 Yes,” I said. 44 Good-by ; I ’m sorry I could n’t 
accommodate you.” 

44 Don’t mention it,” he said, with a wave of his 
big, dumpy hand. 44 It happens every day in life 
and business.” 

It was at that I left him, and he sat down again 
when I moved away. The man who had been drinking 
at the bar passed through the doorway at the same 
time as myself, and was swallowed up by the stream 
of foot passengers which was once more flowing east 
and west. 

I took a taxicab straight to my flat at Brompton 
Court, for it was growing late. I had correspondence 
to occupy me, and I was dining out. The lacquered 
box looked quite handsome on the top of my Chinese 
cabinet, but I had leisure to wonder why I had been 
such a fool as to refuse twenty guineas for it. I did 
not examine it further, but went to my writing-desk, 
and an hour later I dressed for dinner. I dined at 
the Savoy in pleasant company, went to a theater 
later, and got back to Brompton Court just about 
midnight. 


In the Auction Room 13 

My man, Drayton, is all the servant I have or 
need in the flat. He is a handy man from the navy 
and an admirable fellow, quick, intelligent, silent, 
good at need, with an imperturbable cheerfulness and 

— not least — a capable cook. I came upon Drayton 
after I left Persia, when I had been trying my luck 
in the consular service, and he had remained with me 
ever since, and would not leave if I could help it. 
Drayton went to bed as a rule at eleven, and he had 
gone when I entered. The electric light glowed dimly 
in the hall, and one tantalum bulb was switched on in 
the dining-room, where a napkin was neatly set out 
with a decanter of whisky, a glass, and a plate of 
caviare sandwiches. This was Drayton’s kindly 
thought of me lest I should be hungry ere I retired. 
I sat down, mixed myself a drink, and nibbled at 
the sandwiches while I turned over my letters. A 
shaded, rosy light suffused the room. I turned my 
ears to the door and listened. At first I thought it 
was Drayton, and then I knew it was n’t. I had 
heard the drub of the tradesmen’s lift in the area 
in the distance, but had paid no heed. It was 
the sound in the passage that arrested me — a 
very faint sound, but a regular one — pat — pat 

— pat. 

I got up, moved to the door, and opened it wider. 
The light from the hall illumined the mouth of the 
passage to the kitchen quarters, and nothing was 
visible. The heavy Wilton pile masked my footsteps, 
which repeated that pat — pat — pat. I saw the 
door of the drawing-room ajar, and pushed it wider. 
The closed curtains held the room in thick darkness. 


14 


The Big Fish 

I had a notion, and dismissed it as I conceived it, 
that some one was breathing not far off. 

I stepped inside and groped for the switches. As 
I found them, and clicked the chamber into light, the 
black figure of a man flew past me, jolting me 
sharply aside in the process, and sped out and down 
the corridor to the kitchen. I called out, and at that 
moment I heard a door open at the end of the pas- 
sage where Drayton slept. 

“ Catch thief, Drayton ! ” I shouted. 

There was a noise, a crash. I rushed down the 
passage and bumped into a human body. The next 
moment the corridor and the kitchen were alight. 
Drayton confronted me in pajamas. 

“Where is he?” I asked breathlessly. 

Drayton ran across the kitchen ; the window was 
open into the gray summer night. 

“ He ’s jumped through on to the tree,” he said 
excitedly. 

The arms of a huge plane tree from the gardens 
without protruded right across the kitchen window. 
The breeze was now rumpling the feathered branches 
pleasantly, and sighing in the leaves. I dashed out 
of the flat, which was on the second floor, and went 
down the stairs two at a time. When I reached 
the door into the garden I had some difficulty in 
turning the cumbrous key, but once outside I went 
at express speed to the base of the plane tree. 

“ That you, sir? I ’m afraid he ’s gone.” Dray- 
ton’s voice called from above. “ I heard a scuffle 
in the bushes over there.” 

I sought the bushes, explored them, beat the gar- 


In the Auction Room 15 

dens generally with a lantern and the help of Dray- 
ton, who had hastily dressed and followed me. But 
there was no trace of the fugitive to be found, and 
I conceived that he had made his escape by scaling 
one of the iron gates which gave access to the 
garden from the streets which surrounded the quad- 
rangle of Brompton Court. There was no use in 
continuing a vain search, and so I returned to my 
rooms. 

Drayton and I made an examination of the flat, 
and discovered, as I had already had time to con- 
jecture, that the intruder had obtained entrance by 
hauling himself up from the area on the dumb- 
waiter, and forcing the scullery window. His object, 
of course, had been plunder, but after a long scrutiny 
I could not find anything missing. I had evidently 
interrupted him early in his work; in fact, with the 
recollection of the rumbling dumb-waiter in my ears, 
I came to the conclusion that he had only just made 
his entrance when I sensed him in the passage. 
Drayton went back to his bed, but I remained up for 
an hour. I finished my sandwiches and my whisky, 
and began to review the day, as one sometimes does. 
The scene in the auction room and my experience 
subsequently in the wine bar returned to my memory. 
I smiled at the oddness of it, and once more asked 
myself why I had been such an ass as to refuse 
those twenty guineas. That reminded me to have 
another look at my purchase. I went into the 
drawing-room, switched on the light, and turned to 
the Chinese cabinet. The lacquered box had fallen 
on its side, and lay askew upon the cabinet. I set 


16 


The Big Fish 

it up, wondering — and then I guessed. The thief 
must have upset it when I disturbed him. He had 
gone straight to the cabinet as a likely place for 
valuables, and had caught up — 

Then my mind came to an abrupt pause. For 
something flashed upon me, an illuminating discovery. 
The visitor had wanted that box. 


CHAPTER II 

THE LACQUERED BOX 

I WENT to bed and to sleep with that conviction 
impressed upon me, and it mingled in my dreams. 
I fled down the deeps of sleep, actually carrying a 
box which I strove in vain to hide, and I was pur- 
sued by invisible and mysterious enemies. I don’t 
know if it was due to the sandwiches, or to the 
excitement of the nocturnal chase, but the atmosphere 
of my dreams was maleficent; it frightened me. I 
awoke to dawn and sense and the normal conditions 
of life, and, throwing off the dreams and facts alike 
of the past night without any difficulty, I made a 
good breakfast. I had a full day before me, but 
before I went out I gave Drayton instructions for 
the day, and I remembered the box. I told him to 
put it away in a safe place, and to inform the estate 
office regarding the attempted burglary. 

When I got back in the evening, I asked if any- 
thing of moment had happened, and received Dray- 
ton’s negative with satisfaction. I mused over my 
cigar, remembering an engagement I had entered into 
during the day. I had met Dick Cassilis at lunch, 
a man whom I had not seen since we were both in 


18 The Big Fish 

Vienna, and I had invited him down to my river 
bungalow. 

Cassilis was a Harvard man, by profession a law- 
yer, and by preference a wanderer. He had in- 
herited a small patrimony, like myself, and he had 
a passion for travel. Still young — he was thirty- 
two, some four years under my own age — he had 
not yet succeeded in satiating himself with move- 
ment, and he turned up often where one never looked 
for him. He was at Vienna on one of these pilgrim- 
ages when I was attached to the embassy there, and 
I had taken a huge fancy to him on the spot. 

He was a lean, tall, clean-shaven fellow with a 
fresh color and an admirable smile which gave charm 
to his face. He had seen a great deal, but he was 
not a talker — at least he did not talk about him- 
self; and he had a quick, alert mind and an un- 
quenchable spirit. How it was ever supposed that 
this man would settle down to the drab routine of the 
law is more than I can conceive. He was an ad- 
venturer at heart, and game to back his hazards to 
the last. 

Yet even Dick Cassilis had his equable and lazy 
moods, and he had joyfully acquiesced in my sug- 
gestion that he should spend a week-end on the river. 
It was midsummer; the heat was growing; and all 
the conditions of the weather argued in favor of cool, 
unconventional raiment, of lounges on the lawn, of 
long, refreshing drinks through straws, of punts and 
the cool breath of waters, of house-boats bedecked 
with Chinese lanterns; in fine, of a world at ease 
and peace. 


19 


The Lacquered Box 

Cassilis and I left London next day after lunch 
at the club, Drayton having gone down earlier to 
make preparations. My bungalow was a small affair, 
but its setting was picturesque. The shaven lawn 
went down to the river’s edge, from which my boat 
swung and dangled in the flowing tide. There was 
a little color in the garden, and the place was bright 
with flowers. It was enchanting after the muffled 
roar and dust and heat of town. 

Cassilis flung himself down in the deck chair on 
the lawn, and closed his eyes. 

“ ‘ In the afternoon they came unto a land 
In which it seemed always afternoon.’ ” 

he quoted languorously. He had a passion for the 
“ Lotos Eaters,” which was unintelligible in a man 
of such a strenuous activity. “ ‘ There is sweet 
music here that softlier falls,’ Poindexter,” he pro- 
ceeded solemnly. 

“ ‘ Than petals from blown roses on the grass. 

Or night-dews on still waters,’ — 

which reminds me.” He broke off, got up hastily, 
and walked down toward the water’s edge. “ There 
is quite a pretty tide running. Let ’s pull off to the 
church spire I see in the distance and explore the 
land. How I love English villages ! And the Thames 
is in a class by itself.” 

We pulled up to the mark he had indicated, and 
even some distance beyond it. Cassilis insisted on 
wandering about the village, and poking his nose into 
the shops. He bought tobacco in one, and a stick 
in another, and a pound of butter in a third. 


20 


The Big Fish 

“ What on earth do you want with those things ? ” 
I asked. “ It ’s not the tobacco you smoke ; you 
probably have already more sticks than you know 
what to do with; and I have no doubt Drayton has 
purchased all the butter he requires.” 

“ True,” he said whimsically, “ but I like buying 
things, and I love shops. After all, the butter will 
do to sit on.” 

He was in a hopelessly frivolous holiday mood, 
which always made him a charming companion. In- 
deed, we both enj oyed ourselves to the full during the 
next two days, idling, talking, sculling, smoking, and 
reading. 

We were at lunch on the second day and were 
talking of future plans. Cassilis wanted me to join 
him in an expedition — somewhere, and was for toss- 
ing up to see where it should be. I was half inclined 
to assent, having no particular ties that bound me 
to England after the close of the season, and was 
turning over possible routes, after rejecting the spin 
of the coin. 

“ Japan — Venezuela — Siberia — Sahara,” sug- 
gested Cassilis, imperturbably foolish. 

66 1 should n’t mind Norway — ” I was beginning, 
when my eyes fell upon something which stood on 
the mantelpiece, and which I had not noticed before. 
It was the lacquered box which I had bought at the 
auction. 

“Drayton, what’s that doing here?” I inquired. 
Drayton was fluent in explanation. I always sus- 
pected that by nature he was really loquacious, but 
an admirable discipline restrained him. 


21 


The Lacquered Box 

“ Beg pardon, sir, I brought it,” said he. “ I 
thought you set store by it, sir, as you gave it to 
me to put away; so I brought it with the other 
things.” 

“ What is it? ” asked Cassilis, staring at the box. 

I went on with my lunch, and I told him the story 
of the auction room. He got up, took the box in 
his hand, opened it, and scrutinized it. 

“ Yes, it ’s a toilet box,” he said, 44 about a hun- 
dred years old. I ’ve seen a good many in Japan. 
You refused twenty guineas, did you? My dear boy, 
it may have been bluff ; it was n’t business. I could 
purchase these for fifty dollars any day.” 

44 Then why the deuce did they offer twenty guineas 
for it ? ” I asked, a little annoyed, partly at my own 
folly and partly at his reflection on it. 

44 That was n’t business, either,” he said, looking 
up with a smile, and his face took on a more thought- 
ful expression then, 44 unless — ” he never finished his 
sentence, but came back to the table. 44 How sweet 
the sunlight sleeps upon the river ! I vote for a 
punt and a backwater this afternoon.” 

That was, in fact, how we spent the afternoon, 
with pipes and books and a fishing-rod. Cassilis 
caught two small chub and nearly fell into the 
stream in his excitement. 

44 1 really caught three, but the other was too little 
to know how to hold on, poor thing,” he explained, 
after a famous original. 

We went to bed thoroughly contented, and thor- 
oughly lazy. Unfortunately, however, I at least was 
not thoroughly sleepy. Indeed, after retiring to my 


22 


The Big Fish 

room, which was next to the dining-room, I sat up 
smoking a cigarette and looking out in the garden. 
In those culminating days of midsummer there is no 
real darkness ; night is a luminous gloom. There 
were stars overhead, and there was a mist of light 
veiling the lawns and shrubberies. The river was 
like an open road, in which night and day met, and 
out of which one might expect the dawn at any 
moment. I sat thinking for some time, and then I 
was moved by an impulse from nowhere. I got 
up, and went down the corridor to the garden 
door, opened it, and passed out. At the foot of 
the lawn, the dinghy rocked in the flow of the cur- 
rent. I jumped in, cast it loose, and rowed into 
the gloaming. 

I pulled upstream for a mile or so, enjoying the 
silence and the mystery of night. Shadows rose upon 
the river bank, which I took to be trees, and the 
water lapped under the dinghy with each propulsion 
of the oars. I let myself drift. Far off I could 
catch the continuous monotone of a weir, drum- 
ming in the night. I drifted into the bank, pushed 
myself off, and went down lazily, just keeping the 
boat’s nose straight ; and, after an absence of 
an hour or so, I bumped into the lawns below the 
bungalow. 

I got out, tied up the boat, and was turning to 
move away when I was astonished to see another 
dinghy made fast to the boat-house. It was not 
likely that any one had called at such an hour, for 
it was past midnight; and it would be strange if a 
belated wayfarer had mistaken his landing stage. I 


23 


The Lacquered Box 

walked up to the house, wondering, and slipped my 
key into the lock. Inside was darkness and silence. 
I listened, but could hear no sound. 

Drayton slept at the back of the bungalow, and 
Cassilis had been put up next to the smoking-room. 
I had paused on entering, and now I moved on again, 
four, five paces, and I paused again suddenly outside 
the dining-room door. In that instant of pause I 
heard a faint click, and I interpreted it. An inspira- 
tion, for it had no time to be a definite thought, sent 
me swiftly back to the door and out into the garden. 
The click was the sound of a window rising. I ran 
round the dining-room just as a dark figure disen- 
tangled itself from the shadows of the house. Im- 
mediately I grappled with it. 

My opponent was lithe and active, and I at once 
saw that I had met my match. We swayed and 
staggered and fell into the bushes, and I realized 
with a sickening sense of defeat that I was being 
rolled under. The darkness was not so deep even 
there beneath the laurels, but that I could discern 
the movements of the man who was struggling above 
me. I saw his arm raised and it seemed monstrous, 
menacing. It held something. 

Then it suddenly dropped, and I felt the tension 
of the grip in which I lay relax. From the side on 
which the night spread like a luminous shroud, I per- 
ceived a hand and a black shadow in it. 

“ All right ! ” The marauder’s voice came to me 
strange and clear. “ I ’m done.” 

I disentangled myself and made out the position. 
Cassilis stood, sharp and watchful, in his pajamas. 


24 The Big Fish 

with the revolver still within a foot of the man’s 
head. I got up painfully. 

44 A squeak ! ” I said. 44 Thanks, Dick. What was 
he using? ” 

The man rose also. 44 Only a billet of wood,” he 
said. 44 It would have knocked the stuffing out of you 
for half an hour — no permanent harm.” 

“ Thanks ! ” I said dryly. “ Well, if you ’ve no 
objection we ’ll go in.” 

He made no remonstrance, nor did he attempt to 
stir from within the range of Cassilis’s weapon. He 
entered the house, and I turned on the light. The 
man had sunk into a chair, and taken a cigarette 
case from his pocket. 

44 Do you mind if I smoke ? ” he inquired. 

I nodded. Cassilis had his eyes upon the man as 
firmly as his revolver. Our prisoner was about forty 
years of age, I judged, of a fine, well-turned phy- 
sique, had a head gracefully set, and regular feat- 
ures, tanned, but marked with the wear and tear of 
life and its indiscretions. He wore a short, trimmed 
and pointed beard, and he had bright, roving eyes. 
He lit a cigarette with a steady hand, and blew out 
the match. 

46 1 ’m sorry,” he said, 44 but I ’m not really a 
burglar. You ’ll find all your valuables safe.” 

At that moment the door opened, and Drayton 
appeared, half dressed. He had something in his 
hand. 

44 Beg pardon, sir,” he said, 44 1 found this out- 
side under the laurels.” 

I recognized it at once. It was the lacquered box ! 


25 


The Lacquered Box 

And as suddenly I made another recognition. I 
remembered that I had seen this man before. He 
was the man I had casually noticed in the auction 
room and at the bar of the wine-shop. His eyes had 
followed ours to what Drayton held, and I saw his 
white teeth emerge in a smile from under his mous- 
tache. 

44 Thank you, Drayton,” I said ; 44 you heard the 
row, then? ” 

44 Yes, sir, I was waiting behind Mr. Cassilis, sir, 
— with this, sir.” 

He cheerfully exhibited a terrible cutlass, and 
once more I was conscious of the stranger’s smile. 

44 Good man ! ” I said. 44 We shall want you to 
go for the police shortly, Drayton; so be within 
reach.” 

44 Yes, sir.” The cheerful face retired and the 
door closed. 

44 You will send for the police? ” asked the 
stranger. 

44 Certainly,” I responded. 44 What else do you 
expect? As for your not being a burglar, I dare 
say you ’re not an ordinary burglar, but I can’t 
subscribe to your statement that all my valuables 
are safe.” 

44 You mean that box? ” he asked, with an inclina- 
tion of his head towards the table on which it had 
been placed. 44 How much do you think it is worth? ” 

44 1 refused twenty guineas for it,” I said. 

He appeared to ponder. 44 Twenty guineas,” he 
repeated, and his eyes moved over my face as if 
he were estimating me or something in me. 


26 


The Big Fish 

44 It was a cheap offer,” he said at last, and added 
meditatively, “ I wonder if we could strike a bar- 
gain. It would be worth my while, and, I think 
yours.” He looked up suddenly with that swift 
glance of his. 44 Tell me what you propose to do 
exactly? You will proceed against me for breaking 
into your house ? ” 

64 Yes,” I said, 44 the usual phrasing — attempted 
burglary.” 

44 That means, with your evidence, anything from 
six months to two years,” he said coolly, and blew 
the smoke through his nostrils. 44 Suppose it would 
be possible to strike a bargain? ” 

44 The bargain,” said Cassilis, speaking at last, 
44 would be dictated by us on our own terms. You 
see,” he added pleasantly, as the other made no 
answer, 44 we have the whip hand — all the trumps.” 

44 Oh, no,” he shook his head with his smile. 44 But 
I confess you have a certain position of advantage. 
If you intend to press it, I must yield so far.” 

44 We press it,” said Cassilis. 44 Don’t we, Jack? 
Try one of my cigarettes.” 

He offered his case to the stranger, who accepted 
it with a polite acknowledgment. 

44 Next to getting the best of a deal,” he said 
easily, 44 1 like a square deal, so that we know where 
we stand. Very well, I ’ll tell you a story. Do you 
mind a story at this time in the morning? ” 

44 Nothing in the world I should like better,” said 
Cassilis, lighting his cigarette. He still held his re- 
volver in his other hand. 44 Jack, do you think we 
might have a whisky and soda with it? ” 


27 


The Lacquered Box 

I rose. 44 Since we are all so sociable, why, yes,” 
I said dryly. I set out the decanter and filled the 
glasses. The stranger half emptied his at a draught. 

“ I think I wanted that,” he said. 44 Mr. Poin- 
dexter has strong hands.” He made a smiling ges- 
ture towards his throat, on which a red mark was 
visible, and lolled back in his chair. 46 Well, my 
name ’s Houston, and circumstances have placed me 
in an awkward position. Call it bad luck — fate. 
It does n’t matter. It ’s the thing itself that signifies. 
I came within call of a fortune once — twice, and 
lost it. This makes the third time, unless — ” he 
looked from one to the other of us, 44 unless I can 
persuade you to make terms. Look here, gentlemen, 
I ’m showing my hand,” he said earnestly, 44 and you 
must take that into consideration. I could shut my 
mouth and go to prison, and be no worse than that. 
But I prefer a deal. It will suit my book if it comes 
off, and, I think, suit yours.” 

44 Suppose we hear it,” I said, still dryly. 

44 Precisely nine months back I was in Peru. Ever 
heard of the Big Fish? ” asked Houston suddenly. 
44 No, I don’t suppose you ever did. Anyway, it 
means something. I daresay you ’re acquainted with 
the history of the Incas and of their subjection by 
the Spaniards in the sixteenth century. Every 
schoolboy knows of it, and I knew about as much 
as every schoolboy when I went to Peru. I went 
out on business, — a mining proposition. Well, I 
need n’t go into that. There was a party of us 
out for a matter of some months, and we did n’t 
strike very much, though I believe there ’s riches be- 


28 


The Big Fish 

yond the dreams of avarice in that Andine district. 
Anyway, Raymond and I, who were running the show, 
came out of it pretty badly. It cost us a good many 
thousand dollars. That ’s Raymond’s box you ’ve 
got,” he said, breaking off abruptly and pointing at 
the table, on which reposed also Cassilis’s hand with 
the loaded revolver. 

66 I had n’t heard of the Big Fish any more than 
you till I ’d been in Peru for some time. Then I 
ran across the story. You see, when the Incas were 
driven from their last stronghold across those terri- 
ble plateaus, they carried along with them all their 
possessions, including the royal treasure which had 
accumulated for centuries and is reputed to be of 
untold value. They were pursued by the Spaniards, 
who had wind of this, and, finding themselves pressed, 
they buried part of the treasure in the mountains. 
This lightened them some, I suppose, for they man- 
aged to make good their retreat for a further dis- 
tance, and then, on the approach of their ruthless 
enemy, lost heart, and made a cache of the remaining 
treasure. A little later they were broken in pieces 
by the Spanish, and scattered to the winds.” 

Houston paused and sipped his whisky. I saw 
that Cassilis’s eyes were fixed intently on the speaker. 

“ There the treasure lay undiscovered for more 
than a hundred years, although tradition got hold of 
the story. The Spaniards, themselves, hunted for it 
in vain, and the heirs and assigns after them, so to 
speak. But somewhere in the eighteenth century a 
party of searchers stumbled on a cache, and set 
themselves up for millionaires. They paid, I believe, 


29 


The Lacquered Box 

something like a million pounds sterling to the Span- 
ish government by way of royalty or commission. 
You can judge from that the size of the cache.” 
Again Houston paused, and again he sipped his 
whisky. 44 It was the smaller cache, known as the 
Little Fish, which was found,” he said, after a mo- 
ment. 44 The Big Fish still remains undiscovered.” 

“ Go on,” said Cassilis feverishly. 

Houston showed his teeth in a smile, and lit a 
cigarette. 

“ It interests you ? ” he asked. 44 Perhaps I ought 
to stop right now and make a treaty. But I guess 
I won’t. I ’ll shovel all the cards on the table. Ray- 
mond and I, with our outfit, had our fill of pros- 
pecting. We were as lean as herrings and we had 
lost most of the mules. I tell you it ’s rough up 
there. We were at a big height most of the time, 
and the air was rarefied. There ’s mountain sickness 
worse than seasickness. It makes you feel your 
stomach ’s the only thing you ’ve got, and you wish 
it belonged to some one else. I thought I ’d never 
stop — well, anyway, it was bad. The place was a 
wilderness of rock with some grass and scanty cactus. 
If ever I drew hell, I ’d draw it with a foreground 
like that. And, at the back, why — well, I ’ll come 
to that. This was on the ranges by — oh, well, you 
would n’t know. Maybe you will a bit later. 

44 That was just about the time old Raymond chose 
to spring his surprise on me. Raymond he called 
himself, but his name was Ramon right enough, and 
he came from ’Frisco way. He was rather stuck on 
his family, and was a sort of Hidalgo breed. But he 


30 


The Big Fish 

found Raymond suited him better for keeps, so he 
had it pasted on him. He was a little, wiry, active 
fellow, with a capacity for enthusiasm that kept you 
wondering what next. But I confess I never ex- 
pected that ebullition. 

“ He had made a study of the Spanish- American 
states, starting with his own, and he had done a 
good deal of Mexico, and came easily down in that 
way to Peru. It was Peru that held him. It was 
a sort of land of promise to him, which was one 
reason why he and I were out on the Andes on that 
fool quest. But Raymond was n’t daunted, as you ’ll 
see. 

“ One night he came to me just as I was thinking 
of the slopes below and a sort of civilization, and he 
opened fire. Were we to go back busted? he asked. 
After all our trouble, were we going to confess our- 
selves failures? That didn’t appeal much to me, 
not having any pride or self-conceit to worry me 
just then. What I wanted was square meals and 
gaslights and things of that sort. Then he sprung 
his mine. I told you he ’d made a study of those 
countries, and had dug and delved in books. That 
was how he struck the trail of the Big Fish. All 
that rumor had to say en route, he ’d picked up, 
pigeonholed and docketed; and now that one quest 
was over, he had taken fire on the other. What he 
asked me was to join him in a search for the treasure. 

“ You ’ll think I was a fool to listen, but he ’d got 
his facts ledgered up. He had made out the district 
in which the cache must have been made, and he had 
kept eyes and ears open. A word he ’d heard — a 


31 


The Lacquered Box 

name — from one of the mestizos we had with us 
gave him his clue, and now he thought he could lay 
his hands on it. He talked to convince me, and tired 
and sick as I was, I sat up and mingled my enthu- 
siasm. It was arranged that we should quit the camp 
with one or two Indians and mules, travel lightly, and 
make a shot for the venture. He did n’t want the 
whole camp in it, for he did n’t trust them.” 

Houston’s eyes, which had been fixed meditatively 
on the top of his cigarette, moved from my face to 
Cassilis. He spoke slowly. Cassilis nodded, as if to 
show that he understood. 

44 Well, to cut the tale short,” said Houston, re- 
suming more briskly, 44 we quitted — left the others 
to go down to the coast as they liked, and went off 
at a tangent, talking of opal mines. Then we got 
a taste of that hell of which we ’d just seen the fore- 
ground. 

44 We started with three Indians and five mules, 
and a snowstorm killed two of the latter the second 
night out. We were at a mighty height then, in a 
pass which gave access to the eastern range. It 
snowed for four and twenty hours, and we huddled 
together against the rocks, eating of the deplenished 
stores, and talking till our spirits failed, sleeping 
when we might, and dreaming. It was n’t treasure 
I dreamed of. When we got out and on to the trail 
again, we were obliged to go slower, by reason of the 
two dead mules. I had a fierce attack of the sickness, 
and Raymond, too. But we pushed on, and at last 
came to a big dry canon; I don’t know the history 
of it, but I guessed it was a relic of the past. It 


32 The Big Fish 

had been dug out by glacial action ; a river had once 
run down it between rocks a thousand feet high. 
It was cragged and scarped like those bare places 
you see in illustrations to 4 Paradise Lost.’ There 
was nothing but rock, rock, rock. And into this we 
descended ! 

44 That, I guess, was all the hell I ’m going to 
have. I don’t like to look back on it too closely. 
The first Indian died that night — of what we did n’t 
know. He just sickened and died in an hour or so. 
The following day the second died in the same mys- 
terious way. By that time we had got alarmed. I 
was sick all the way — the air seemed too light to 
breathe. And big, jagged rocks shut out the sun 
from us ; we walked in a dreary twilight, staggering 
and foundering on the rocky bed. The third mule 
collapsed that night. I confess I began to get 
frightened. It looked as if we were going to lay 
our bones there to bleach in the gloom of the canon. 
But nothing would keep Raymond back, — nothing 
that is, until he fell ill, and even that did n’t, as 
you ’ll see. The third Indian died in the course of 
the next day, and toward night Raymond sickened. 
He had temperature and wandered, and I sat up 
all night with him in the tent I had managed to 
pitch. I reckoned then that we had been marked 
down, and might as well give up. There was food 
of a sort left, but we were both sick men, and one 
was delirious, and were on a God-forgotten wilder- 
ness, hundreds of miles from any human trail. 

44 Raymond was better in the morning, and talked 
about pushing on. It was fool’s talk, but he talked. 


33 


The Lacquered Box 

By this time I had n’t much faith left in the quest. 
It had been screwed out of me on the rack. But 
Raymond was alive with belief still. You see, he had 
made up his mind that the Big Fish was buried in 
the hecatombs of the Chima, and that was where he 
was making for. But that lost city of the Chima, 
who were dead before the Incas ruled, eluded him. 
It was reports of the natives he was going by, and 
there is n’t much as a rule in tradition, I ’ve found. 
A few days’ rest made some improvement in Ray- 
mond, and he insisted on descending the canon fur- 
ther. Then there came something which I thought 
would put a finish to his zeal. The canon divided, 
and he could n’t tell which hand to take. 

“ It ended in our deciding to split up. We each 
took a mule, shook hands, gave each other our bless- 
ings, and then he descended one ravine and I the 
other. I never saw him again.” 

Houston paused, and we waited. 

“ He died three weeks since in London. That ’s 
his box. He found what he was after, and I did n’t. 
But he died before he could realize. The secret of 
it ’s there — on that table.” 


CHAPTER III 


WE STRIKE A BARGAIN 

H OUSTON’S voice showed no signs of excitement ; 

he spoke quietly and unemotionally, and he 
merely pointed with a finger at the table, on which 
still rested Cassilis’s hand holding the revolver. It 
was Cassilis who broke the short silence. 

“ What is there? ” he asked. 

“ The secret of the Big Fish,” said the man. 
“ That was why I wanted it. You see, it was not 
exactly what is meant by burglary.” 

“How do you know it’s there?” asked Cassilis 
sharply. Houston lit another cigarette. 

“ Raymond wrote me that he kept it there,” he 
said. “ I said I never saw him again, nor did I. 
I arrived in England too late; but I heard from him. 
It was two months later when I got back to the 
coast, carried most of the way in a litter. My food 
gave out; I lost my way; and I was delirious when 
I was picked up by a prospecting party on a trail 
for Bolivia. When I was able to attend to things I 
made inquiries, expecting to hear no more of Ray- 
mond; but I found that he, too, had escaped and 
come back. He had passed through Lima, and had 
set sail for New York. 


35 


We Strike a Bargain 

“ After a bit I mustered strength and I wrote to 
him at an address of his in San Francisco. A month 
or so later, I had a letter from him from New York, 
giving an account of his journey, and announcing 
his success. He was always straight, was Raymond. 
He might have kept it to himself, but he told me how 
he had found the cache, and said that he was going 
to London to make preparations for an expedition to 
recover the treasure. That was how I came to learn 
where he kept the secret plan. He wrote, asking me 
to join him in London. But I had a relapse, and 
— I arrived too late.” 

There was a moment’s silence. I remembered the 
attempts to purchase the box from me in the auction 
room and in the wine-bar : I remembered the thief in 
the night. Lo, here was another. Was this the 
whole explanation? Had we everything before us? 
Yet it was not on that point that I spoke, when I 
broke silence. None of us had as yet offered to 
trust the box. 

“ Have you got that letter? ” I asked abruptly. 

Houston showed his teeth whitely. “No, I 
have n’t ; I lost it. Of course that is what you 
expected me to say. Well, I ’ve said it.” He 
shrugged his shoulders. “ If I had it, I don’t know 
that I need be here just now. In a sort of way it 
would have disclosed a contract. Anyway, it would 
have proved my bona fides with the executors.” 

“ With the executors ! ” I exclaimed. 

“ Yes ; of course I approached them,” he said, in 
his mellifluous, easy voice. “ I found Raymond dead, 
and I went at once to the executors. They had n’t 


36 


The Big Fish 

much to straighten out here. Raymond’s property 
is in the States, mainly. Well, they would n’t listen 
to me or hear of my claim. I was n’t fool enough 
to give away the show, but they refused the thing 
as I put it — wanted proof, don’t you know. And I 
had none. I got no information out of them, but I 
guessed there ’d be a sale ; and so I managed to get 
on the track of it. It was difficult, but I succeeded 
— too late again.” He paused, threw the end of his 
cigarette into the fireplace, and smiled again. 
44 That ’s why I am a criminal.” 

I was thinking of the square man, Werner, and 
of his lanky companion. There was no mention 
of any such people in Houston’s talk. 

44 And your friends ? ” I said cautiously. 

44 Friends ? ” He looked a question at me. 

44 Those who are with you in this venture — your 
associates,” I explained. 

He made a gesture which had some grace in it. 

44 There is no one,” he said. 44 1 am alone. It 
was Raymond and myself.” 

Again I was silent, pondering, and it was Cassilis 
who took up the cross-examination. 

44 May we ask how you came to discover that Mr. 
Poindexter had the box? ” he asked sauvely. 

44 Yes, you ’ve a right to do that,” assented 
Houston, nodding, 44 but I don’t want to answer 
quite all. It would or might get some one into 
trouble,” he explained pleasantly. 44 You see, money 
talks, and your name is peculiar, Mr. Poindexter. 
Frankly, I believe had it been Smith or something 
cognate, the box and its secret would have disap- 


37 


We Strike a Bargain 

peared into the void as far as I was concerned. But 
Poindexter marked it down. There was a bit of 
difficulty, but not much. I traced you to Brompton 
Court.” 

“ But I had left,” I said, putting in sharply for a 
purpose. 

“ Yes,” he replied leisurely, “ and that made a bit 
of detective work for me. It was unexpected. You 
see, it was annoying to have been a day behind the 
fair always — in regard to Raymond, the sale and 
then you. But I fixed it.” 

“ Do tell us,” said Cassilis, in a friendly way. 

“ Well, I found out at once from the porter that 
you had only been gone a day. Of course he 
would n’t give me the address. Nor was it practi- 
cable to pick it up in any directory I could lay my 
hands on. After all, you might have gone any- 
where, but would you have taken the box with you ? ” 

He paused. 

“ You found out that? ” I interrupted quickly. 

“ I ’m sorry. I beg your pardon. I offer you any 
satisfaction you may wish to take, when you have 
heard me through.” He smiled, with a graceful 
wave of his hand. “ It was necessary, you see, in 
my game. Well, this can’t be very interesting to you. 
I ’ll wind up. The easiest way to track you was 
through the tradesmen. The first time I drew blank, 
and was stared at. It was a first-class shop at which 
I was dead sure you traded. Then I tried a grocer 
with a post-office business in one corner. I argued 
you ’d be known there for a certainty ; and so you 
were. But I did n’t win out. I inquired if your 


38 


The Big Fish 

book had been forwarded, and said you were anxious 
to settle up. The polite manager bowed and smiled 
and said he was obliged to me, and — where was it 
to be forwarded? That got me. He didn’t know, 
and so I told him he ’d better send it to the flat, and 
the postal authorities would send it on. I made an- 
other failure at a newspaper shop, and then I did 
some thinking.” 

He broke off. 44 Do you think I might replenish 
this glass? I seem to have been talking a heap. 
Many thanks. Oh, it turned out to be pretty easy,” 
he said, sitting back in his chair. 44 I went to the 
district post-office, where the letters would be re- 
directed to you, and found an innocent looking 
female clerk. I said I ’d come about Mr. Poin- 
dexter’s letters, and that there was one two shillings 
was due on. I pushed a florin across the counter. 
The girl was puzzled, could n’t understand, and 
sought explanations. I repeated myself with con- 
fusing additions, making a rigmarole of a parcel 
which had not been stamped. I wanted to pay. 
The girl saw a genuine case of remorse, still could n’t 
fathom it, and sought assistance. This was in the 
shape of a man to whom I repeated my involved story. 
I worked myself up into a polite fluster. I demanded 
to pay on the parcel, and with some excitement I 
posed as a dull and honest foreigner. By and by 
there were three of them, and they put their heads 
together, and began to turn up papers. Finally, one 
brought up a couple of letters and a bulky envelope. 

44 4 There ’s no parcel here addressed to Mr. Poin- 
dexter,’ said he. 


39 


We Strike a Bargain 

44 I indicated the bulky envelope with some excite- 
ment and he turned it to me. I read the address on 
it. I shook my head, smiled, bowed, pocketed the 
florin, and withdrew. It took some time, but it was 
easy.” 

His composure, his assurance, was astounding. 

44 It ’s as easy as breaking in,” I suggested. 

44 No,” he replied, after pondering. 44 That was 
too easy.” 

44 Having then marked me down,” I continued, 
44 you managed the burglary.” 

44 It is odd,” said Houston, 44 but if you will be- 
lieve me, the burglary was an afterthought, a 
temptation. I had the idea of coming to you 
first with my story, as I do now perforce. But I 
was too greedy. I thought it over. The tempta- 
tion was too great, and when I saw the window 
fastenings — ” 

He laughed. 44 Anyway, there ’s the story, and 
now it ’s up to you, gentlemen.” 

He drank some of his whisky, and surveyed us in- 
differently and with neutral eyes. Cassilis rose. We 
had behaved with exemplary patience up till then, 
but we had proved too much for him. 

44 Don’t you think it ’s time we had a look at the 
box? ” he asked. 

I nodded, and he handed it over to me. Suddenly 
Houston’s eyes, which had been wandering, steadied 
hard upon me. Cassilis toyed with the revolver. 
I opened the lacquered lid, and disclosed the glass 
and the tray; the bottle was removable and gave 
access to a recess beneath, which was empty. That 


40 The Big Fish 

seemed to be the extent of the box, and Cassilis and 
I gazed at it with disappointment. I looked up at 
Houston. 

66 Pardon me,” he said, and inserted a long, elegant 
hand into the interior. There was a click, and a 
small panel gave way, discovering a long, narrow 
compartment in the base of the box. In this was a 
strip of paper folded lengthwise. Houston’s fingers 
were withdrawn without touching this, but I noticed 
that they were tremulous. I pulled out the paper, 
set down the box, and straightened out the paper, 
smoothed it, and held it to the light. Houston was 
not looking at me, but at the paper, and his eyes 
seemed to mark out a lane of light to my hands. 
It was a mere halfsheet of notepaper, and on it was 
scrawled in a spidery hand: 

For the secret of the Big Fish , inquire at sanctuary of San 
Felipe , Astarnok. 

I read this out, and glanced up. Houston’s face 
had changed. It had been pallid a moment before, 
and now it was normal; his nostrils were working 
fast, but it was evident that he had emerged from a 
strain. I have told you that I have a mind which 
notes and pigeon-holes trifles. It was evident to me 
in that instant that Houston had had a disappoint- 
ment; he had not heard what he had expected to 
hear. He had all the appearance of one deeply 
wrapped in thought and involved in its swift revo- 
lutions. Almost it seemed as if he were at the 
moment unaware of our presence. Then he breathed 
deeply and laughed. I believed then, and I believe 


We Strike a Bargain 41 

now, that in those few minutes he had come to a 
decision. But I did n’t know what it was. 

44 Where is AstarnokP ” asked Cassilis. 

44 It ’s a village in the back of beyond ; it lies in 
the Sierras of Peru,” said Houston. 

44 Well,” said I. 44 This has been very interesting 
as an interlude, but it may be all a pleasant game of 
buncombe.” 

Cassilis jumped at me: 44 For which Mr. Houston 
risked jail,” he said. 

Houston was watching us smilingly. 44 1 await 
your decision, gentlemen,” he said. 

Cassilis threw down the revolver. 44 That ’s mine,” 
he said, and looked at me, his handsome face aglow. 
44 1 think, J ack,” he said, 44 that our holiday ’s 
settled.” 

44 1 wonder,” I said, and to that added : 44 Yes, I 
believe it is.” I turned to the wondering Houston. 
44 What you have said is all very interesting, and 
I can add something to it. There were two boxes. 
Did you know that ? ” 

44 Two ! ” His eyes, alert, were fixed upon me in 
that narrowed gaze. 

44 Yes ; two boxes of identical appearance were 
offered at the sale. One passed into other hands.” 

44 Raymond must have duplicated it as a safe- 
guard,” said he thoughtfully. 

44 The purchasers of the first box, who missed the 
second, were very anxious to get it from me,” I 
went on quietly. 

44 Ah ! ” I thought I had in my turn interested 
him. 44 In fact,” I continued, 44 there was a burglary 


42 


The Big Fish 

before yours. This box has a value in other eyes 
also.” He frowned, his brows knit. 

“Ah! I had a suspicion. You know that letter. 
I can’t produce it. It was lost. Well, I have often 
thought it was stolen. I can’t understand — ” He 
paused. “ That would account for some things. 
So some one was after the box. It complicates mat- 
ters a bit. I lost that letter on board ship. I had 
a suspicion — ” 

“ Well, any one is welcome to the box, now,” said 
Cassilis, cheerfully. 

“ Thanks,” said I dryly. “ And now, Mr. Hous- 
ton, may I ask what you propose? ” 

“ I want a clean slate,” he said, smiling, “ and a 
joint expedition in which we all share alike. Frankly, 
I tell you my share of Raymond’s find was to have 
been a third. If you come in, let it remain a third. 
You merely step into Raymond’s shoes.” 

“ There is his estate,” I suggested. 

“ I am no lawyer,” he replied, with a shrug of his 
shoulders. “ But it seems we have at present nothing 
to divide, nothing the law can take into account.” 

There was some reason in that argument. Cassilis 
nodded. 

“ We can’t quarrel over what we don’t know to 
exist,” he said. There was silence for a few minutes, 
and then I spoke. 

“ Yes, I agree,” I said. 

Houston rose. “ Then I guess I ’ll quit, ere you 
change your mind,” he said. 

We showed him out, after making an appointment 
for the following day. The dawn was pale in the 


We Strike a Bargain 43 

east when we heard the dip of his oars in the 
water. 

Cassilis turned to me. “ You believe? ” he asked. 

“ A good deal of it,” I answered. “ It ’s a sporting 
chance.” 

“ I would n’t miss it for worlds,” he said eagerly. 
“ I ’ve had no such surprise since the fakir and I went 
into Thibet together. He can’t bolt, I suppose ? ” 

“ He can’t get away without a ship, and no liner 
goes out before Thursday.” 

“ We ’ll go on Thursday,” said Cassilis. “ You 
go to bed. I ’ll see the dawn in.” 

I was tired, although I was excited, and I went 
to bed. I slept soundly, but I awoke once to hear 
Cassilis retiring, and I thought he paused outside my 
door, and then passed on. It appeared to me as if 
he had been coming in to wake me, and had changed 
his mind. 

I think with the morning came doubts to both 
of us. Cassilis was restless, but argued in favor of 
what, I felt assured, he only half believed in. To- 
gether we studied the scrap of paper, as if a deeper 
scrutiny of it would shed a light upon the situation. 
To me, in the bright light of the summer day, with 
garish realities about one, there seemed something 
preposterous about this episode through which we 
had gone, and the story to which we had listened. 

“ You think we ’ve been sold, Jack? ” asked Cassilis, 
suddenly giving in. 

44 Don’t you? ” I inquired. 

He made a whimsical face. “ I ’d like hugely to 


44 


The Big Fish 

believe, but I ’m not sure we shall see Mr. Houston 
again. Yes, I am,” he added suddenly. 

He was right. Houston called after dinner at 
the hour he had appointed, and, with his appear- 
ance, once more the narrative resumed its reality, 
and the spell of the venture invested us. Houston 
was very matter-of-fact. 

“ If we are going, we ’d better get off at once,” 
he said. “ Is n’t there an old Latin proverb to that 
effect ? There ’s a direct boat on Thursday. If 
we went by way of Panama, it would probably take 
us longer. By your leave, gentlemen, we will make 
it Thursday.” 

I thought there was some anxiety in his tone, but 
I did n’t know. Cassilis, an eager and an experienced 
traveler, would have agreed to start that day; and 
I could make my preparations by Thursday. We 
agreed, and we sat for a long time discussing our 
plans. 

It was an odd situation, when you come to think 
of it, that we should be hobnobbing over cigars and 
glasses with our burglar. I think we both watched 
and studied him very closely, and he made a good 
impression on us. He was an educated man in a 
way, an adventurer, of course, and a happy-go-lucky 
one, but a man who was accustomed to risks, and 
to take chances, had seen a good deal of the world, 
and was capable of bold, even of unscrupulous, 
action, if necessary, as indeed the circumstances 
of his introduction to ourselves demonstrated. He 
professed simply to have made a business propo- 
sition to us, and he conducted himself on that foot- 


We Strike a Bargain 45 

ing, pleasantly companionable, advisory, suggestive, 
but never thrusting himself into a false intimacy, or 
assuming the appearance of it. He told stories with 
a certain feeling for words and effects, and gave us 
impressionistic sketches of the Andine Sierras. 

44 I hate ’em,” he said calmly. 44 I simply loathe 
the idea of going back. But the prize is too big. 
It means — ” He sighed. 44 My God, I don’t know 
exactly what it does mean.” 

44 And the porterage? ” asked Cassilis. 

44 The Indians of those parts are simple, faithful 
people. They earn their wages, and know nothing, 
and want to know nothing, outside their living and 
their religion. I doubt if they know the color of 
gold.” 

44 Good ! ” said I. 44 That simplifies matters.” 

Houston looked at me out of the corners of his 
eyes. 44 It will be more complex than you think,” 
he said. I liked him for that. 

44 We are prepared for any complexity in this 
world,” said Cassilis airily. 44 That ’s what we ’re 
in it for. You ’re not hooking on to a couple of 
mercenaries. We ’re in it for fun.” 

44 And lucre,” I added dryly. 

44 Primarily fun, incidentally lucre,” amended 
Cassilis, with a light laugh. 44 1 ’ve got my march- 
ing orders. Jack, if you ’ll entrust the job to us, 
Mr. Houston and I will fix all up for Thursday.” 

44 Go your way,” said I, smiling. 44 You will drag 
me to perdition some day. I have n’t forgotten how 
I escaped by the skin of my teeth from that gambling 
hell in Constantinople.” 


46 


The Big Fish 

66 Did you? ” he mused. “ I had almost forgotten. 
Who was it ran that troop of bashi-bazouks ? 
Schneider, Schuyler — I forget. Anyway, it was 
fun.” 

“ Fun ! It was madness,” I said. “ Thank 
Heaven, I ’m older and wiser now.” 

“ If you are counting on that, Jack, you are 
leaning on a broken reed,” said Cassilis, with a warn- 
ing finger. 66 See how the old spirit bubbles up ! 
Lord, man, you can hardly keep your seat. What 
say you, Mr. Houston? ” 

Houston had been watching us with interest, his 
eyes alight, and now he smiled without replying. 
I rose. 

“ True,” I said. “ Drayton has forgotten the 
glasses.” I rang the bell, and gave my orders, and 
we settled down for a talk over the arrangements 
for departure. Houston was to go back to London 
the next morning, and was to be joined by Cassilis 
later in the day. I had some affairs that would 
engage my attention, and I decided to follow him. 
We made the dispositions, all three of us, like old 
campaigners. 

Houston rose as the clock struck eleven. It was 
time, he said, that he should be going. 

“ I ’ll go down with you to the boat,” I said, to 
learn that his boat was not there. 

“ I came by the bridge and walked by the field 
paths,” he said carelessly. “ I fancied the stroll.” 

“ Ah ! ” replied Cassilis, poking his head out of the 
window. “ Your summer nights — when you have a 
summer,” he added ungraciously. 


47 


We Strike a Bargain 

He drank in the soft breath of the garden. 
Houston made his good-bys and went out into the 
corridor, where his hat and coat had been left. It 
was a slouch hat, and the coat was disfiguringly 
ample, both incongruous on so smart a man. They 
would better have become an Italian anarchist, or at 
all events a Chelsea artist. I bade him farewell, and 
Drayton showed him to the door. When I got back, 
Cassilis was still leaning out of the window. “ That 
man ’s interesting, Jack,” he said. “ He fascinates 
me. I wonder — ” 

“Well?” I asked, encouragingly. 

“Nothing; at least not yet. I shall be inter- 
ested to see more of him in town.” 

“ I don’t see how he ’s going to make anything, 
if his story ’s not true,” I said. 

“ Oh, as for that, I don’t care if it ’s true or not,” 
he replied nonchalantly. “ Yes, I ’d like it to come 
out true. I think it will in parts, like that egg, 
you know. But the play ’s the thing ; I mean, of 
course, the game. It ’s the prettiest game I was 
ever a party to. What ’s that? ” 

He was staring across the lawn into the shrubbery 
by a pathway. I joined him. I saw a figure — 

I slipped out of the window quickly and stepped 
into the night. It was the usual shrubbery of laurel 
and lilac, and in the shadows lurked a man. He 
eluded me, but next moment I heard Cassilis. 

“Good Lord! You!” 

There was a murmur after that, and I hastily 
broke through. 

“ What ’s this? ” I asked. 


48 


The Big Fish 


“ It ’s Houston!” 

“ Hush ! ” said a low voice. “ I ’ll tell you in a 
moment. I tripped and fell — my wind — ” 

" Come back into the house,” I said. 

“ No; excuse me,” he answered. “ I ’m all right. 
I ’ll get on. Only I thought I saw some figures in 
the drive there.” 

“ What ! ” I ran towards the house, and entered 
by the open door. 

“ Drayton ! ” I called. The lights were burning in 
the smoking-room as we had left them, and there 
was a light also in the kitchen quarters. 

Drayton came out into the passage. “ Any one 
about? ” I asked. 

“ No, sir,” said he, astonished. “ I ’ve heard 
nothing.” 

66 Bring a light,” I ordered, and we went the 
length of the corridor into the dining-room. The 
window was open, as it had been open once before, 
and the Sheffield epergne on the sideboard was dis- 
arranged. Something made me glance at once at 
the bureau. The lacquered box was gone! 

I ran out. “ Cassilis ! ” I called, and a voice 
from the shrubbery answered me. “ What the 
devil — ” 

He came with his arm through Houston’s. “ Some- 
thing up? ” he inquired, and I saw that the man he 
held was a prisoner. 

“ Bring him in,” I said, and we entered. Houston 
stood with his back to the wall, and he was gray of 
face and looked frightened. 

“ Did you find any one? ” he asked, ignoring all 


We Strike a Bargain 49 

that he must have known was in the atmosphere be- 
tween us. 

“ No,” said I curtly. “ But the box is gone.” 

“ By God, I had a suspicion of it ! ” he broke out, 
and his face cleared. “ It was those figures — two 
of them. They looked suspicious. Anyway, we ’ve 
got the paper. They ’re welcome to it.” 

“ Who are they ? ” I asked, not knowing what to 
believe. 

“ Ah ! ” he said, now wholly himself again. “ I 
could give you the names I knew them under on 
board ship, but I don’t think they answer to 
them now. Sharps ; mere crooks. I fancy they 
were known to the ship authorities. It is they 
w r ho got that letter, as I conjectured. That ’s 
what it all means. Gentlemen, this means instant 
action.” 

We were all silent for a moment, and Cassilis, 
who had released his prisoner, fingered his mous- 
tache. “ I guess it means hurry, if that ’s so,” he 
remarked. 

“ We shall have to hear more of these crooks,” I 
said judicially. 

“ I ’ll tell you all I know to-morrow night,” said 
Houston airily. “Now I ’d rather get away. I 
don’t suppose you mind the loss of the box, but I 
wish you ’d caught them.” 

“ If you had given warning a few moments earlier, 
we should have,” I said caustically. 

“ Pardon me,” he said gracefully. “ I had a nasty 
blow in the pit of the stomach — a tree stump.” 

Yet when he left and ere I went to bed, I wanted 


50 The Big Fish 

to understand why he was so badly shaken. It 
could n’t have been the stumble ; nor, if I knew any- 
thing of men on sight, could he have been scared 
by the mere presence of two suspicious strangers in 
the drive. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE BEGINNING OF THE TRAIL 

T HERE were nearly three days between the events 
of that night and our embarkation at Southamp- 
ton. The Albuquerque sailed at two of the afternoon, 
with Cassilis and myself hanging over the bulwarks 
of the upper deck, and watching. We had by then 
a special reason for watching. Houston was in his 
cabin, a sick man. 

The two working days in London passed busily 
enough. Houston had rooms in Clapham, but I 
did n’t know that till later, as you will see. The 
address we had was at an hotel in Bloomsbury. It 
was, of course, necessary that we should remain 
in touch, since we had interests in common, but 
Houston seemed to avoid us. I wondered what game 
he was playing, and particularly if he were playing 
straight. Cassilis offered no speculations on the 
subject, but made his preparations like a master of 
travel, which he was. Houston, as a matter of fact, 
met us once at certain stores where we were pur- 
chasing outfits, and he called at my flat in the even- 
ing of the day I got to town. The same night he 
called on Cassilis at the Savoy. Under all his 
studied insouciance, I thought I observed a certain 


52 


The Big Fish 

feverishness, a restlessness. He seemed eager to be 
off, and rather impatient of the necessary dela}\ 

“ Perhaps it would have been better to go by a 
Holt boat from Liverpool — ” he began, frowned, 
and broke off, “ But the Albuquerque will land us 
earlier. Anyway — well, see here, Mr. Poindexter, 
it 9 s just possible that I may be late for the boat 
train. Don’t wait for me. Go ahead. I ’ll be aboard 
before she starts.” 

It seemed an unnecessary piece of information, be- 
ing at least premature, and it savored of the mys- 
terious. Cassilis pondered when I told him. 

“ Yes,” he assented. “ It ’s all that. Anyhow, I 
like it. We ’re not going off like any two ordinary 
tourists. By gad, we ’ve got an atmosphere about 
us, Jack.” 

His charming smile spread over his bronzed face. 
That was the spirit in which to take it, of course. 
I really was n’t objecting to it myself. However, that 
brings me to my point. It was Thursday night, and 
we were to start on the following day. Cassilis and 
I had a little farewell dinner at the Savoy, at which 
we speculated about our adventure. 

“ It ’s folly, you know,” said I, “ but it ’s inter- 
esting.” 

“ It ’s life,” said Cassilis, laughing as he drank his 
wine. 

“ In my heart of hearts, I don’t believe in it,” I 
said. 

“ I believe in him,” said Cassilis ; 66 1 have a great 
belief in him. He ’s immense. I don’t know if he ’s 
a rogue or a hero, but I know he spells something 


The Beginning of the Trail 53 

fine for us — in what direction, death or glory, 
I don’t guess. Here ’s to him ! Here ’s to the 
Quest!” 

The wine foamed as we drank to the toast in a 
mood of some excitement. Cassilis looked down into 
his glass reflectively. 

“ Some seek the bubble, Reputation, at the cannon’s 
mouth,” he said. “ Here is the bubble, Jack. See 
it break and dissolve into nothingness. Tout passe , 
tout casse , tout lasse. But it is n’t Reputation we ’re 
seeking, is it? No, it ’s wealth, is n’t it? ” 

“ If you ask me,” I said dryly, “ it ’s merely ad- 
venture. I don’t pin much on the treasure. It ’s a 
gamble; we ’ve staked on the red, and are watching.” 

“ Red ! ” says he, frowning. “ I wonder. There 
are only two colors — red and black. Red wins, 
messieurs ! ” 

There was a silence between us, and I believe we 
had both been started on the same course of thought 
by those idle words. 

“ Anyway, faites votre jeu , messieurs ! ” He 
laughed, and eyed casually an approaching waiter. 

“ Mr. Poindexter, sir? ” the man was inquiring. 
I nodded. “ Special messenger, sir.” 

I took a letter from a salver, and opened it. There 
was only one man who knew we were dining there, 
and that was — Yes, it was from Houston, a note 
written from an address in Clapham, and exhibiting 
urgency from a spluttering pen and blot marks. 
When I had read it, I handed it over to Cassilis. 

“ Rum ! ” said he. “ It must have been a mighty 
sudden attack.” 


54 


The Big Fish 

“ Influenza has a way of knocking you down like 
a shot partridge,” I said. 

He mused. “ Well, if he wants us to go on to 
Southampton without him, I suppose we must.” 

“ Do you like leaving him behind? ” I inquired. 

“ 1 ’m hanged if I do,” said Cassilis. 

That was my view. I rose, and he followed my 
example. 

“ It seems to me this puzzle is only just beginning,” 
I said, reaching for my hat. 

“ What fun ! ” murmured Cassilis, as the obse- 
quious waiter held out his overcoat. “ I suppose 
you ’re going to Clapham.” 

“ My dear fellow, you ’re a wonder in the way of 
inference. I am.” 

“ We are,” he corrected. 

At Clapham we found the address without diffi- 
culty, a substantial lodging-house in a respectable 
and quiet road. There seemed to be some delay 
between our admittance and Houston’s reception of 
us. I fancy messages passed up-stairs, and ques- 
tions were asked. But our bona fides being be- 
yond challenge, we were presently ushered into the 
sick-room. 

The man lay white and sickly under his tan, and he 
seemed feeble of movement and faltering of speech. 
Even for one under the sudden violence of la grippe, 
he appeared to present a figure of extravagant weak- 
ness. He had the ghost of his old jauntiness, but 
his eyes looked anxious as he spoke. 

“ I ’m awfully sorry to be a nuisance like this. But 
it must n’t interfere with our plans, Mr. Poindexter.” 


The Beginning of the Trail 55 

66 1 ’m sorry you ’re down,” I answered. 64 It must 
have been very unexpected.” 

44 That ’s so,” he said. 44 It does n’t give you 
time to think much. But I ’m all right. If 
you ’ll only get ahead, I ’ll feel more comfortable. 
If I can, and the doctor gives me a shadow of a 
chance, I ’ll join you to-morrow. If he does n’t, I ’ll 
come by the following boat. I ’m anxious you 
shouldn’t lose this.” 

We talked a little more, and when we gave the 
promise to go on, I thought his relief showed in his 
face. Just as we turned to leave the room, I pulled 
out my cigarette case; took a cigarette and offered 
him one, as if mechanically. His long, strong fingers 
closed over it, and I lit a match for him. 

Down-stairs and on the road Cassilis broke silence. 

44 What made you think of that ? ” he asked quickly. 

44 Did you notice the ash on the tray? ” I asked. 
44 And where ’s your nose, my son? ” 

44 1 did n’t think — I was thinking of him , not of 
details,” he replied, and then he laughed. 44 Fancy 
betraying himself like that ! Influenza and smoking ! 
Heavens, I could n’t taste anything with influenza.” 

44 Well, as it is n’t influenza, we want to know 
what it is,” I replied. 44 My idea is that it ’s a 
game.” 

Cassilis shook his head. 44 1 don’t know.” 

That was our cul-de-sac. We didn’t know; and 
we had got no nearer to knowing next day, when 
we stood on the upper deck of the Albuquerque and 
looked over the side at the traffic on the pier. 

44 It seems certain that he can’t get ahead of us 


56 


The Big Fish 

in time,” was how Cassilis summed up our futile 
speculations in what, at all events, was a sort of 
consolation. Houston could n’t. We had gone 
through innumerable time-tables and steamship com- 
panies’ sailings, had visited offices, and considered 
ourselves experts in the South American lines and 
lists. We must reach our destination by the 
Albuquerque earlier than any one else. 

We watched the passengers come aboard in that 
detached and idle mood which old travelers assume 
on these occasions. It was brisk, fine weather, and 
Cassilis smoked a cigar. There came up the gang- 
way an old man with his daughter, the girl flurried 
and pretty, and her father with the unruffled dignity 
of an archangel ; two young men of a sporting char- 
acter, labeled idlers; an effusive party, trending to 
tears and chatter, mainly women; one tall, gaunt, 
sickly man with sunken eyes and thin gray hair, a 
pathetic figure, no doubt in search of health in some 
more fortunate climate; a Jew and his fat com- 
panion engrossed in serious talk, and oblivious of 
all else; a smart naval officer, blond and frank, on 
the lookout for a friend — or was it a fiancee? 

Cassilis nudged my arm. 

“ Good Lord, Jack, do you see that on the pier? ” 

I had been looking at the gangway ladder, but 
now I followed his hand. From a bath chair was 
disengaging itself with slow care a figure, and the 
set of the head was familiar. 

“ Houston ! ” 

Cassilis was staring. The man moved on the arm 
of an attendant up the ladder, and in painful prog- 


The Beginning of the Trail 57 

ress reached the deck. Cassilis slipped from my side 
and descended to the main deck. I waited. He re- 
turned in ten minutes. 

44 J ack, this complicates the j igsaw. I was think- 
ing I saw light before. Now I don’t.” 

44 1 never did,” I answered. 44 What does he say? ” 

44 Oh, that he found the doctor would let him travel 
with precautions. He looks worried.” 

A porthole below us, but away to the right, was 
pushed open, and a girl in furs near me put her 
head over the taffrail and looked down. There was 
a face in the opening. 

44 Houston ! ” I said once more. 

There was no material to afford fresh thought, 
but we had room for it. I fell to watching the pier 
and the gangway once more. 

The stream moved to and fro, and the first bell 
went. It turned a perceptible current shoreward; 
but flotsam still came up the gangway ladder — a 
fussy woman with a weak-faced husband, some dark 
foreigners, a businesslike man with whiskers, a quiet 
man of fifty with a military bearing and an imper- 
turbable mien, a cheerful, pink-faced man with a 
hand-bag, children in a hurry, and a man in uniform. 

It was all ashore now, and within a few minutes 
the screw was threshing. We were warping out. 
Several yards of angry water separated us from the 
pier. I heard a little clap below, and saw Houston’s 
porthole close. His face had vanished. Cassilis had 
scraped a superficial acquaintance with the girl in 
furs and was explaining the shore pleasantly to her ; 
so I strolled along the deck and watched the town 


58 


The Big Fish 


dwindling swiftly behind us. Presently I found my 
way down to the saloon, and made inquiries of the 
chief steward, which resulted in my visiting Hous- 
ton’s cabin. 

He was in bed, but was smoking a cigarette, and 
his face, though pale, wore a more cheerful look 
than when I had last seen him; and he greeted me 
cheerfully. 

“ 1 managed it, after all,” he said. 

“ I ’m glad of that,” I replied. 66 I hardly thought 
you would yesterday, from the look of you.” 

“ Oh, I’ma tough bird,” he said, with nonchalance, 
and turned the conversation forthwith upon the voy- 
age and our prospects. 

I left him with a strong impression of his amazing 
vitality. It burned in his eyes, in the lean lines of 
his face, in the very muscularity of his spare body. 

The voyage was of average dullness, broken only 
by the calling at intermediate ports in the South 
American continent, from Rio de Janeiro downward 
and outward. This touching at land broke the 
monotony, a monotony which was the more pro- 
nounced that our company was uninteresting. It 
was not numerous enough to arrest one as a passing 
crowd with which one mingles. For that, also, it 
stayed too long with one. One got to know too 
much, to see too much of one’s fellow-travelers. It 
was not always easy to avoid them. 

The women were ordinary, and incapable of arous- 
ing enthusiasm, even in young hearts; and the men 
were mostly familiar types, British merchants in 
Brazil and the Argentine, Portuguese returning, 


The Beginning of the Trail 59 

military officers, commission agents en route for the 
Pacific. 

Among these latter, indeed, I found more amuse- 
ment than in the other classes. Cassilis professed 
an open affection for the “ drummer,” which I was 
disposed to share. Common, pushing, and far from 
electric, these raw pioneers, nevertheless, have an 
atmosphere of their own endurance and courage 
about them. They are frank, know what they want, 
and have no pretences. Two or three of these fell 
into a group and consorted together over cards, 
over dominoes, over grog, and stories in a corner of 
the saloon at night. There was Mackenzie, a big- 
boned Scot ; Coop, a small cockney, and some others 
whose names I have mislaid. 

Houston made his appearance on deck about a 
week after we left Southampton, and was in an 
optimistic mood. He was a man of some ceremony 
where women were concerned, and occupied himself 
with some of our fair passengers. None came amiss 
to him, though I think he preferred the girl whom 
Cassilis had originally discovered in furs, a minx, 
it seemed to me, very conscious of her own powers. 
However, she seemed popular aboard with both young 
and middle-aged men, and when no one else was about 
did not disdain the service of the drummers. 

Houston had the air of a convalescent, and lolled 
back in his deck-chair at ease, punctuated with atten- 
tions to the various women who drifted past. It was 
not long before I knew there was something in the 
quick regard of his eye, but it was some time before 
I could exactly give it a name. Indeed, there was 


60 The Big Fish 

no one name to it, but it became capable of analysis 
into several names; or at any rate I thought so. 
There was, I conceived, a certain watchfulness in his 
eyes, and there was suspicion; there was also some- 
thing deeper and darker, as it were a primitive 
instinct driven out of action and all external exhi- 
bition, but taking refuge there. But if anything 
was clear about Houston, it was that he was perfect 
master of himself, a highly developed animal with 
a sensitive system of control. 

On the whole, we got on very well together, though 
it would have been absurd to suppose that we were 
on friendly terms, except very superficially. A bond 
of business united us, and that was all, unless it was 
a bond also of interest in the vagaries of human 
character. Houston was on probation still, and was 
aware of it. He made confession of this fact quite 
openly, which was one of his most amiable traits. 

“ After what has passed, and the circumstances 
of our introduction, you are justified in precautions,” 
he said coolly. “ Take what you will, I make no 
complaint. It ’s the future, not the past, that ’s 
got to excuse me.” 

“ We ’re in it for business, I guess,” said Cassilis, 
with nonchalance, and I watched Houston’s watchful 
eyes fasten on him. 

There is nothing to record of that trip until two 
days before we reached Callao. We had dropped 
people at sundry ports, and were now a circumscribed 
company, including the girl, Miss Hammond, who 
was visiting relatives in Peru, and perhaps a dozen 
others. The little event arose out of Houston’s 


The Beginning of the Trail 61 

persistent gallantry. I don’t know really how it 
began, but I believe she made a petulant complaint 
of her seat, and Houston sprang to her assistance. 
A big box stood in the way, and he stooped to 
trundle it off, but it resisted, and, as I was moving 
to his aid, I saw his face turn. It whitened, and 
he fell away. I called out, but by that time he was 
limp on the deck. However, Cassilis and I, with a 
steward, got him down-stairs and pulled him round 
with a nip of brandy. He sat up with a wide, silly 
smile. 

44 Did I go off? What a damn nuisance ! Thanks, 
awfully.” He seemed in an anxiety to get us 
from the cabin. 44 I think I ’ll rest, if you don’t 
mind.” 

We shuffled out, and Cassilis walked up the com- 
panionway beside me without conversation. 

44 That was it, then? ” he said at last. 

44 What? ” I asked, in surprise. 

44 Did n’t you see? No, you were on the wrong 
side. When we loosened the shirt, I saw it plain 
enough. I wonder why this mystery.” 

44 My dear fellow, indeed I am asking myself — ” 
I began, impatiently. 

46 A knife wound,” he said succinctly. 44 1 should 
judge quite a deep one, and very recent. That was 
the explanation, of course, of his fainting. It ’s 
hardly healed. And that, too, was the explanation 
of the influenza. I wonder why.” 

I was startled. A knife wound! 

44 Why should Houston have pretended something 
else? ” 


62 


The Big Fish 

“ Ask me another,” said Cassilis, shrugging his 
shoulders. 

There was silence between us. “ I ’ll be hanged 
if I begin to understand one little thing about it all,” 
I said impatiently. 

“ Oh, I begin — ” said Cassilis. “ That ’s easy 
enough. It ’s afterwards I ’m beaten. I can get as 
far as this — that some one is after the Big Fish as 
well as ourselves.” 

“We know that from my adventure in the auc- 
tion room,” I agreed. “ But why the attack on 
Houston? ” 

Cassilis stood musing. “ I think we shall have a 
lively holiday over yonder,” he said at last, as he 
looked landward where the Andine ranges smouldered 
in the mist. 

As a matter of fact, I had always been of that 
opinion, though when we got ashore at Callao it 
was agreeable enough. The place was strange to 
both of us, and although we felt it was but the 
prelude to our real business, the sensation of en- 
largement after the restrictions of sea life was 
eminently pleasant. Houston set to work at once. 
He was not anxious that we should follow him, and 
he disappeared, we knew not where, the very after- 
noon of our arrival. 

“ I will communicate with you,” he said. “ I ’ll 
make the preliminary preparations. The less fuss 
the better.” 

“ Do you think he means to skip ? ” inquired 
Cassilis, looking after him doubtfully. 

“ No,” said I; but I didn’t know why I thought 


The Beginning of the Trail 63 

not. But I was right. We had been three days 
at Callao when we got word from Houston con- 
veying instructions ; and, acting upon them, we took 
a coastwise boat to Mollendo. Cassilis and I had 
taken a run to Lima, where the young lady who had 
interested him had been deposited; and here we had 
the privilege of meeting two of our 44 drummers,” the 
Scot and Coop. Coop was a little, screw-faced cock- 
ney, with a lively tongue, a chatty vulgarian with 
shrewd eyes and a nose for business. Mackenzie was 
raw-boned and rather cantankerous in manner, but 
capable, I judged, and very persistent. He was 
agent for an engineering firm, while his companion 
traveled in cotton goods. Coop talked pretty large, 
as if he were going to make Peru, to say nothing 
of Bolivia, into an appanage of Lancashire. He was 
destined for La Paz later, and wanted to know if 
we included the place in our itinerary. I assented, 
at which he was good enough to show satisfaction. 

44 Glad we sha’n’t part yet awhile,” he said. 
44 These dagos get on my nerves. It 9 s like living 
on macaroni all day and every day.” 

At Arequipa, however, which we reached from 
Mollendo, there was no obvious European save Hous- 
ton. The journey from the coast through the lower 
Andes was a tedious affair, for one soon wearied of 
the monotony of barren peaks and crags and wild, 
empty plateaus. Arequipa came as a surprise, with 
its brilliant sunshine and white walls, a mediaeval 
Spanish town, perched seven thousand feet above the 
sea, and sunk in inglorious superstition. Houston, 
who met us at the hotel, as it was called, was far 


64 


The Big Fish 

advanced with his preparations, and had improved 
amazingly in appearance. He had regained his brown 
color, and looked like a lean, active — well — pan- 
ther was the figure that rose instinctively to my mind 
when I saw him. He had been incredibly busy during 
these three days, and I don’t think I was ever drawn 
nearer to liking him than when seeing him there, reso- 
lute, capable, industrious, and cheerful; with an air 
of having resources at his back. We had reached 
Arequipa towards evening, and it was over the even- 
ing meal that we learned of his preparations. He 
had the outfit, as he called it, at a fonda, some dis- 
tance away, and it was in readiness for an immediate 
start. He seemed eager to be off, and suggested that 
we should leave on the following morning. There was 
nothing to keep us in Arequipa unless it were church 
services, and so Cassilis and I fell in with this plan, 
and it was understood when we went to bed that we 
should make a start early on the morrow. 

Some hours before dawn I was awakened by a 
noise, and, being aroused, realized that some one was 
knocking on my door. 

“ What is it ? ” I called out. 

Houston’s face appeared in the widening aperture. 

“ Do you mind if we alter our plans? ” he asked, 
u and start now, I mean? ” 

I sat up and looked at him. “ I think it would be 
best for all of us that we should understand each 
other,” I said sharply. “ Perhaps you will be good 
enough to explain the change.” 

“ It ’s about time,” said he, nodding. “ I did n’t 
want to disturb either of you, but I see it ’s got to 


The Beginning of the Trail 65 

be. You remember the other folk who were after your 
box ? ” 

44 1 remember all about the box pretty well,” I 
answered dryly. 

44 1 ’m afraid they ’ve got wind of us. It ’s the 
Black Gang,” he added shortly, 44 and their repu- 
tation is over the Andes.” 

44 What reason have you for supposing — ” I 
began. 

44 Take it that I saw some one — a shadow. I 
recognized something I ’d once seen. Anyway, you ’ve 
got it as straight from me as you can get it. It 
is n’t safe here. If we linger, it may be too late. 
Werner ’s dangerous. Our only chance is to make 
tracks now.” 

44 Werner ! ” I repeated, as the name echoed down 
the chambers of my memory. 

44 I believe that ’s the leader’s name,” said Hous- 
ton, indifferently. 44 1 ’ll rouse Mr. Cassilis, then, if 
you ’re agreeable.” 

As I dressed, it seemed to me that I knew the 
name of Werner, and that I had not heard Houston 
refer to it before. I dressed in a speculative mood, 
and found Houston waiting for me. 

44 1 ’ve settled with the hotel men,” said he. 44 They 
won’t trouble their heads about why and wherefore, 
but I ’ve mentioned a dying friend. For the sake 
of better security, I don’t want us all to go in a 
lump. If I was right about what I saw, I think 
we ’d better scatter. I suppose you can ride by 
compass, Mr. Poindexter.” 

I nodded, and awaited his instructions. When 


66 


The Big Fish 

Cassilis was ready, he also received his. The mas- 
terly way in which the man had his plans cut and 
dried, and the coolness with which he distributed them, 
invited my admiration. There was, too, something 
exhilarating in this midnight flitting, and it was not 
without enjoyment that I found myself alone in the 
darkness, pressing northwest into a blind night on 
a blank, blind road. Cassilis, I gathered, was gone 
north, but I did not know where Houston was. If 
I had any momentary temptation to doubt his good 
faith, I remembered that he need not have given us 
notice at all, but could have taken French leave 
of us any time during the past three days. 

I rode for the better part of an hour, and then a 
little starlight refreshed the sky. The track was 
across the plateau land, which in these parts fall 
under the general name of puna. There was at this 
time no sound to keep me company. My mule stum- 
bled along through the coarse grass and sedges over 
the uneven surface, and sometimes waded through 
swampy waters. Occasionally I consulted my com- 
pass by the light of an electric torch I carried. And 
now for the first time, I began to experience that 
nausea which comes of the rarefied air, and is known 
there as the soroche. It grew upon me as I mounted 
higher, until it was almost more than I could bear. 
The cold was intense also, and the pools were thinly 
frozen over. It seemed to me as if my lungs were 
afire. I pulled in the mule, and rested on the saddle 
to recover myself, for the nausea had reached a 
formidable pitch, and then almost unconsciously I 
slipped from the saddle and lay there in the open 


The Beginning of the Trail 67 

night. Gradually I got better of the fit, and took 
in ray surroundings. Overhead the eyes of the stars 
opened dimly ; the great, white mass of the Cordil- 
leras towards Lake Titicaca blocked the prospect; 
and a small wind whistled among the long grasses. 
Westward, and still invisible, were the declining 
Sierras and the long, shelving nakedness of the 
coastal plains. 

Suddenly I was aware of something black and 
heavy that swept down and by with swishing wings, 
and I drew myself together instinctively, for I had 
a guess of what this must be, a foul bird moving 
in the night upon its obscene way. It must be the 
vulture of the Andes, the hideous condor. 

It passed, and I turned my attention once more 
to the trail. I examined my compass, took a nip 
of brandy, and mounted afresh. As I sat in my 
saddle I thought I heard a sound. It was not the 
sound of the condor’s wings, but something different. 
I gathered the reins and started, and so blunderingly 
crossed a spur in the mountains, and descended into 
a valley beyond. Half an hour later I heard voices, 
and the next thing I knew was that Houston was 
at my mule’s head. He had arrived some time before 
me, and we waited anxiously for Cassilis. Mean- 
while I ate of some food which Houston’s fore- 
thought had prepared, and drank hot coffee with 
gratitude. 

The camp was in a hollow among shrubs, and was 
fairly extensive. Houston had picked up his Cholo 
Indians at the fonda, and had struck off for the 
place of rendezvous ; his arrival had been calculated 


68 


The Big Fish 

to a nicety. But he displayed considerable anxiety 
till Cassilis came in, and then he seemed relieved. 

“ No sign of any one? ” he asked. 

Cassilis replied in the negative. 

“No, I don’t suppose he knows about you,” said 
Houston, thoughtfully, “ nor Mr. Poindexter. It ’s 
me that was the danger.” 

“ I wonder ! ” I said, and I remembered the faint 
and unexplained sounds. 

But Houston was not taking any risks, and at 
sunrise the camp was on the march. 


CHAPTER V 


THE LAW OF THE WILD 

T HE trail was still upward, and I should think, 
by the following afternoon, we must have been 
something like fourteen thousand feet above the sea. 
The whole countryside was ugly, and naked as a 
quarry, and the heavy mists blotted out the superior 
peaks. By evening cold rain fell, and we pitched 
camp in a blizzard. All night the tempest roared. 
The wind blew cold as ice, and tore at the fasten- 
ings of the tents. The noise was terrific ; so that at 
last I gave up the attempt to sleep, and crawled out 
into the open, where a murky light wa* gathering 
over the Sierra. 

We seemed to be encamped on the neck of a 
precipice. The pack mules stood patiently in hob- 
bles, with their heads bent meekly and wearily to 
the storm. The darkness rolled from the tents over 
black spur and valley to the deeper blackness of the 
snow-clad and invisible scarps of the Cordillera. I 
made up the fire, and shivered, and went back to the 
tent. Cassilis was asleep uneasily, and I sat in the 
mouth of the tent and kept watch. 

As I sat, I seemed to see, away in the vacant 
grayness of the dissolving night, a point of light, 


70 


The Big Fish 

almost as if it had been the distant reflection of our 
own fire. I rose and kicked the logs into leaping 
flame. Far off, the point of light disappeared. I 
resumed my place and fastened my eyes on the dis- 
tance, but I saw nothing more. I was glad at last 
when the Indians began to stir as they set about pre- 
paring the meal. The brief, savage storm had passed, 
and the morning was clear. Houston joined me 
presently, looking fresh and vigorous. 

“ Are you still afraid of being followed? ” I asked 
him. 

He looked at me inquiringly. “ I don’t know that 
I ’m afraid,” he said slowly. 

I told him of what I thought I had seen, and he 
turned and called to one of the Indians, who im- 
mediately set off with a companion at a loping run 
down the hill. 

“ I ’ve sent him back on the trail,” he observed. 
“ If there ’s any one, we shall know it.” 

He ate his breakfast without perturbation, and 
Cassilis, who was now roused, and I followed his 
example. The Indians returned ere we started, and 
reported that there was no sign of any one for miles 
back on the trail. 

“ The rain ! ” I suggested. 

Houston said nothing, but afterwards I knew that 
he was as little satisfied as myself. However, we 
turned to the work of the day’s journey without more 
discussion, and made a good distance ere we pitched 
for the night. The way ran along a great spur 
of the mountains with a dry ravine below, and the 
trail looked down from the edge at times into sheer 


71 


The Law of the Wild 

space. Here the soroche attacked Cassilis, rending 
him as it had been some biblical evil spirit. He lay 
on the ground where we rested, helpless and gasping, 
and it was with difficulty that we got him along. 
The sun shone on the white fields of the Andine peaks 
northward and southward. Somewhere in the hol- 
lows of the hills lay Lake Titicaca. I had the 
curiosity, now that it would convey some idea to 
my mind, to inquire of Houston concerning our desti- 
nation. You will remember that Raymond’s instruc- 
tions mentioned Astarnok, and Houston had spoken 
of Astarnok as a remote Trans-Andine village. I 
wanted now to know how far Astarnok lay from us. 

I thought Houston looked oddly at me as he 
answered : “ I reckoned it to be eighteen days from 
Arequipa.” 

“ Eighteen days ! ” I echoed. 

Eighteen days of this ! I stared from Cassilis, 
racked as he was, down the trail and back to Cassilis 
again. Nothing was visible, absolutely nothing but 
barren rock and jutting crag, the grasses and the 
cactus of the Sierra. 

At night Cassilis was better and slept. The cold 
was still intense, and kept me wakeful. I had a 
pain in my lungs. Outside the tent I heard an 
Indian coughing. I dozed, and then started of a 
sudden into full life, conscious of a sound. I pushed 
open the tent flap and peered. Cassilis’s stertorous 
breathing filled the air. 

The night was full of cloud and broken light, and 
among the pack mules I thought I detected an alien 
shadow. I crept out, and stared. There was a stir 


72 


The Big Fish 

in the Indians’ camp up the slope, and then, ere I 
knew what had happened, the shadow flitted over the 
edge of the trail, and disappeared, swallowed into 
the darkness of the gorge below. 

Simultaneously I heard a crack behind me, and 
was aware of Houston, rifle in hand. I ran for- 
ward, passed the line of mules, who were struggling 
in confusion and terror at the alarm, and struck 
down the slope of the gorge where the shadow had 
fled. It was a rough track in the uncertain light, 
and I did not know how steep the descent was, but 
I did know that the river ran a thousand feet down. 
At any moment I might miss my step, or go over 
a vertical height. Something was blundering behind 
me, and I halted. It was Houston. 

“ Got him ? ” he asked eagerly. 

“No sign,” I answered back. 

He had reached me. “ I could never have missed, 
even in the dark,” he said confidently. “ Try slant- 
wise. It will be easier going.” 

We changed our direction, and advanced with 
more circumspection, twenty paces between us. The 
dim lights of heaven but faintly illumined a vague 
earth. I recalled my electric torch, and pressed it. 
A slight ray sprang out and forward like a search- 
light, full on the black hillside. Houston called out, 
and bounded down to me. 

“ About thirty paces off, lying flat. I knew I 
got him,” he said sharply. 

I flashed the gleam again, and made out the figure 
crawling painfully. His head was away from us. 
We moved by common impulse toward the quarry. 


The Law of the Wild 73 

The clouds, passing from the field of stars, left 
the gorge in slender light, which revealed the crawling 
body ahead. Once Houston came to a pause, and 
I heard him say under his breath: 

“Blood! I knew I got him.” 

He rubbed his hand on the grasses and resumed 
his way carefully. Several times the figure halted 
and seemed to rest, and Houston’s hand detained me. 
I had time to ask myself what we did there, and by 
what rights we had shot down a wandering stranger. 
But I got no answer, even from my own conscience. 
After about half an hour’s painful progress, the 
thing ahead got to its feet, and was revealed as a 
man in the native dress. He stumbled and stag- 
gered forward, and we pressed after him, still 
unseen. 

“ He ’s homing,” said Houston in a whisper. 

A little later he disappeared behind a projection 
of rock. Houston and I approached cautiously, 
Houston’s rifle in his hand, and my revolver in my 
belt. We peered round the face of the rock. 

“ Hands up ! ” suddenly cried Houston, in a tone 
I had not heard from him. And “ Your light,” he 
shouted at me. 

I pressed the bulb of the torch, and, as the stream 
spread, uttered an exclamation. Under the rock, 
crouched on a sort of bag, was the drummer Coop, 
whom I had last seen in Lima. 

“ So it ’s you, Coop, is it ? ” said Houston very 
quietly. 

“ Yes, it ’s me. How are you? ” he replied easily. 
“Been shootin’?” 


74 


The Big Fish 

Houston had been looking him over, and now 
spoke in the same quiet voice. “ Ever been at this 
game before? ” 

“ Traveled in most lines,” said the cockney, 
with nonchalance. “ Ain’t it striking cold? Have a 
drink? ” 

He was busy pouring something from a little bottle 
into a horn cup. 

“ There ’s time to go back,” said Houston, still 
quietly. “ As you say, we ’ve been shooting.” 

“ Careless like,” said Coop, tossing off his liquor. 
“ I guess you winged one of my men. You can’t 
be too careful in these crowded parts.” 

“No; accidents will happen,” said Houston 
meaningly. 

“ Well, if you won’t drink,” said Coop, yawning, 
“ with your permission, I ’ll snatch a wink of sleep.” 

I fancy we looked a pair of fools before this vulgar 
cockney. I spoke at last. 

“ It is obvious that you are following us, Coop. 
Understand we ’ll take all steps to prevent 
that.” 

“ My dear old man, I ’m only out for my health,” 
he said. “ Doctor’s orders.” 

He had his tongue stuck in his cheek as he 
leered at us. I felt Houston pluck at my coat, 
and I turned. He said nothing, but began to move 
away; and so I followed. It seemed a weak and 
inglorious ending, with the honors against us, but 
Houston paid no heed. 

“ Now we know, it ’s all right,” he said, smiling. 
“ I ’m glad to have seen what sort of fool he is. 


The Law of the Wild 75 

It is n’t like Werner to use an instrument of that 
sort — at least, it ’s not his reputation.” 

44 But he ’s located us,” I said. 

44 Yes,” assented Houston, and added after a 
pause : 44 It would have been wiser not to have shown 
himself. If I thought Werner would have used such 
a fool, I would have spotted him aboard.” 

44 Perhaps that was what Werner reckoned,” I 
suggested dryly. 

There was something sinister in him that moment. 
I could not have said what it was, but he affected 
me with a little sudden repulsion. I was kept busy 
with my thoughts on the way back, and on arriving 
at the camp found Cassilis had been disturbed, and 
had crept out of the tent. He listened to our ex- 
planations and lay down with a groan. Houston 
moved away. 

44 Jack, it ’s getting hot,” he said. 44 If it was n’t 
for this accursed sickness, I don’t know that I should 
mind much. But one seems to be walking about in 
an atmosphere of brimstone.” 

44 There ’s certainly a stiff problem before us,” I 
said. 44 We can’t afford to let Coop track us.” 

44 No,” he assented, and then, 44 Houston won’t.” 

44 The question is how to stop it,” I said. 

44 You ’ve had a hint this night,” said Cassilis. 

44 1 know. That makes me uneasy. I don’t know 
how far we are prepared to go. Anyway, I don’t 
know how far I ’ m prepared to go. Do you? ” 

44 No,” he answered bluntly. 

There was a little silence between us. “ 1 think 
Houston has no limits,” I added. 


76 


The Big Fish 

“ The question is — can we fix any for him ? ” 
asked Cassilis. “ We ’re in No Man’s Land.” 

“ Anyway, we ’ve got to try,” I said conclusively. 
“ I ’m in for freebooting, but not necessarily for 
freeshooting.” 

Cassilis was overtaken by a paroxysm. Ere we 
turned in for the remainder of the night, I think we 
understood that it was our business to 64 limit ” 
Houston. 

We made an early start. Now that there was 
no object in concealment, Coop let his camp stray. 
Quite patently a mestizo, a half-caste Indian, played 
sentinel half a mile down the spur, and we could 
see the smoke of their fires. Our men stared with 
interest, but indicated little surprise, and unemo- 
tionally and mechanically we loaded up and started 
on the slow descent into the canon. 

Between us, Cassilis and I were conversant with 
travel in most countries. Our experiences included 
Siberia at its wildest, trekking in African highlands, 
penetrating Liberian jungles, starving in Australian 
deserts, and sledding it in Labrador and the Klon- 
dyke. But we neither of us remembered anything 
quite like that trail in the Cordillera. Coop gave up 
any pretence at secrecy. He was out to follow, and 
he adhered to our tracks like a hound. He had the 
impudence of Satan, and under his easy-going grin 
I believe he had the ethics of that prince of evil. 
Anyway, he had audacity such as I had never en- 
countered in any one before. He was shameless. 
His camp was pitched at a nice, airy distance from 
us each night, and each night he kept watch on us. 


77 


The Law of the Wild 

I knew that, for I tested him more than once. Mean- 
while, Cassilis and I were amazed at the conduct of 
Houston. He made his arrangements each day un- 
perturbed, and as if Coop and his camp did not 
exist. He ignored them; it was almost as if he 
had forgotten them. But he had n’t, as you will 
see. 

It was the fourth night after the discovery that 
Coop turned up in our camp. He was looking white 
of face through the tan, and his breath was labored. 
He wheezed out of his chest as if it had been a 
broken concertina. 

“ Got any whisky, old man? ” he asked, in a pip- 
ing, cheerful voice. 

I stared. “ Take a seat, Mr. Coop,” said Cassilis, 
in a friendly way. 

“ Ah ! ” he sighed, and I recognized the handmarks 
of the soroche scrawled all over him. “ I don’t like 
the climate. What do you say to a game of nap or 
poker? ” 

Outside in the half light, I could see Houston’s 
head, small and dark, as he listened. 

“ I tell you what, Coop,” said Cassilis, as if in- 
spired by a sudden happy thought, “ I ’ll play you 
at cards or throw you dice for a shot at you at 
twenty paces.” 

“No deal,” he said, with a sickly grin. “ My life ’s 
too valuable, and I can’t shoot a haystack, five yards 
off.” 

Houston’s voice rang in now. “ Cold, Coop, 
eh? Sick, Coop, eh? How far do you feel like 
going? ” 


78 


The Big Fish 

ar«i>. 

He laughed lightly, and it was at that moment 
that I guessed what he had been doing. We were 
not on the trail for Astarnok. He was leading 
Coop a dance through this terrible wilderness. 
Why? 

Cassilis answered my question later that night, 
after the stricken wretch had crawled back to his 
camp. 

44 It would have been merciful to have shot him,” 
he said. 44 Houston will have no mercy.” 

64 He ’s altered the course. Heaven knows where 
we are now,” I replied. 

44 Have you thought why?” asked Cassilis, in a 
lower voice. 44 White bones tell no tales in this God- 
forgotten wilderness.” 

44 You mean — ” 

44 Coop ’s walking to his own grave.” 

It was evident this was true, whether Houston con- 
templated violence or merely starvation. On the 
whole, with Cassilis, I think violence would have been 
more merciful. Somehow I began to look upon our- 
selves as Houston’s prisoners, as well as Coop. We 
could do nothing without him, and he had only to 
hold up a hand to the Indians, and we were left to 
perish. But he said nothing, merely set his marches, 
conversed amiably, and ignored Coop. Coop stuck 
to us like a burr. It was a dismal procession in a 
desolate land. There were ten paces of naked rock 
and land, then some grasses — ten more paces of 
nakedness, and then some cactus — more nakedness 
— all the way down a bleak, black gulch, and then 
a roaring, freezing torrent — then up a scarp ; then 


The Law of the Wild 79 

ten paces of naked rock and land — then more grasses 
— more nakedness. 

Faugh! I had the taste of it in my mouth, and 
the smell of it in my nostrils. Life had all vanished 
at that elevation, for we touched the eternal snows. 
It worked on my nerves, and I began to get quarrel- 
some. The sickness descended on me again ; my body 
was sore, my feet bled, and my boots were in tatters. 
Cassilis, I think, was somewhat recovered. 

I remember little of that night when Houston and 
I quarreled. I believe I was light-headed, for, though 
I have heard since from Cassilis what I said and 
did, I can recall next to nothing save an angry atmos- 
phere. It began with my annoyance at his bearing. 
His appearance, the set of his head, his watchful, 
smiling eyes irritated me beyond endurance. This 
was the man who had led us out into the wilderness 
to die ! This was the man, smiling, complacent devil, 
who was dragging us weary marches on the naked 
Sierra, till we should drop by the way and perish of 
starvation, of cold, of disease ! I saw in a flash now 
his diabolic scheme. He had designed all along to 
end us out there, so that he might enjoy alone the 
infinite riches of the great treasure. With that my 
control snapped. Cassilis says that I sprang at him 
and poured forth invective. I was mad in that hour, 
and he held me back. Houston shrugged his 
shoulders. 

“ If you ’re tired of it, it can stop,” he said. “ I 
only wanted to do it with the least mess. I thought 
you would approve. Well, anyway, we ’re all tired 
of it.” 


80 


The Big Fish 

He got up on that and went out, leaving me 
staring. Cassilis pulled me down. 

“ Man, you ’ve done it,” he exclaimed. <fi J ack, 
you ’re mad, and you ’ve signed Coop’s death war- 
rant.” 

“ I don’t care,” I growled, and I turned my face 
to the tent covering and groaned. 

Cassilis went out hastily, and when I awoke from 
a doze he was sitting opposite. I felt weak, but 
I was sane now. 

“ What ’s the time? ” I asked. 

He bade me go to sleep, and I must have slept 
again. 

I woke just before dawn, and heard the deep 
breathing of Cassilis at the farther side of the 
tent. I moved the flap aside and went out, and 
the cold blast from the eternal snows greeted me 
like pepper on my raw face. There was a storm 
upon the peak above us, thrashing round and round 
it in a giddy circle. But I was glad to get out, and 
I walked through the camp noiselessly. Somehow I 
felt new strength, and I wondered why I had quar- 
reled with Houston and over what. 

I had gone about half a mile in the grayness that 
precedes dawn when I saw fires ahead, and I realized 
that this must mark the boundaries of Coop’s camp. 
As the light strengthened, it stood out low and black, 
and I noticed a stir in it. The mules were in a string 
together, wretched, patient creatures, with their tails 
to the wind. Suddenly, there was a report in the 
air. I saw the foremost mule, which stood a little 
isolated and picked out from its fellows, go down 


81 


The Law of the Wild 

in a huddle. There was a second shot, and another 
fell ; and on the third crack the camp was in a lively 
commotion. 

I stood where I was, gazing in wonder, and I have 
no doubt that I was a visible object now against the 
dawn. Two mestizos came running, and there was 
a report again. I was aware that a bullet had gone 
by me. It was evident that I was a mark for them; 
and I slunk behind a rock. As I did so, another 
bullet spattered on it. From the near distance I 
heard the repeated sound of rifles, and I looked out. 
The mestizos were gone, and I made my way back 
to camp. Stalking through the half light was an- 
other figure, which I recognized. 

44 Is that you, Houston? ” I called. 

He halted till I reached him, and a curious smile 
played over his face. 44 Satisfied? ” he asked. 

44 1 don’t understand,” I said. 

44 Well, we ’re all"sick of it, are n’t we? ” he said, 
slinging his rifle on his shoulder. 

44 Was that you? ” I asked, suddenly interpreting 
things. 

44 They ’re six mules short,” he said, as he flung 
himself down by the fire we had reached. 

Cassilis was there, anxious and curious, and ex- 
planations were made to him. 

44 Coop ’s got too much commissariat.” 

Suddenly Houston put back his head and laughed. 

When he had gone, Cassilis turned to me. 44 That 
was what he meant when he promised me,” he mur- 
mured. 

44 Promised you ! ” I echoed, vacantly. 


82 


The Big Fish 

“Jack, you forced the pace last night,” he went 
on, in a kindly voice. “ I don’t blame you. This 
place is enough — but I had an understanding with 
Houston. He said nothing should happen — ” 

I reflected. “ Coop will have to abandon his 
stores,” I said presently. 

“ Well, if he does — ” Cassilis broke off. “ Don’t 
you see there’s the question of retaliation?” 

Yes, I did. Houston, however, betrayed no alarm. 
He kept a good watch the next night, and had the 
mules under cover of the rocks. As for the day- 
time there was no cause for anxiety. Apart from 
Houston himself, there was no better shot than 
Cassilis ; and I myself had seen service in the ranges. 
None of Coop’s lot would dare venture anything 
against us in broad light. Indeed, we heard nothing, 
and saw nothing save the fires at night, like glow- 
worms twinkling in the ravines. 

The third day after the shooting of the mules, we 
got through a defile in the mountains, and came out 
upon a narrow track that wound round the bluff face 
of a chasm. Below, yawned a precipice of a thou- 
sand feet, with a bottom of tumbled rocks and 
boulders. 

“ This is a regular trail,” I said. “ Where does it 
lead? ” 

Houston looked down the ravine. “ Over into the 
Montana country,” he said. 

“ Is it ours ? ” I asked. 

“ Yes,” he said simply. 

Cassilis and I stared at him; but he made no 
sign. What had he decided to do with Coop, Coop 


The Law of the Wild 83 

who was limping behind on the trail, fighting each 
day a more desperate fight? Coop must have known 
by this how he had been fooled, and diverted on a 
wild-goose chase. 

We jogged along the track, which was in some 
places but eight or ten feet in width, with the wall 
of the mountain above us and the black gulch below. 
We went in single file, Houston leading with one of 
the Indians, Cassilis next, and myself close be- 
hind ; and then the pack mules with their bur- 
dens, with the rest of the Cholos distributed among 
them. Across the canon stretched height on height, 
barren and bleak and broken. It made the blood 
freeze. 

Suddenly one of the Indians in the rear called out, 
and I turned. I looked over the string of mules, 
and saw several heads raised among the beasts, and 
pointed backwards. The pack covered a space of 
thirty yards, and the hindermost was not yet visible 
round a twist in the hillside. The Cholos in the rear 
were shouting and gesticulating, and one or more 
were facing us with eager and alarmed eyes. I could 
not catch what they said in Spanish. Houston, away 
in front, had halted, but he could see less than I 
from where he stood. 

“ What the devil — ” I was beginning, when one 
of the Indians, named Diego, ran into sight at the 
tail of our procession. At the same time there was 
a terrified movement among the mules, seeming to 
pass electrically from the rear. 

“ Look, look, by ! ” cried Cassilis. 

He seemed beside himself. The ledge where I was 


84 


The Big Fish 

curved inwards, and I strained mj eyes to see what 
it was that had alarmed him. The mules heaved 
forward and spread about me, pushing me into the 
wall, and, as I recovered, to my horror I saw an 
animal forced outward in the melee, stagger over the 
edge, and fall into the space, pack and all. I cried 
out and tried to move backwards, but I was jammed 
in the press ; the breath of one scared beast was 
blowing in my face. I had, however, managed to 
work myself beyond a projecting rock, and I had a 
clear view now of the rear; though I was unable to 
extricate myself for action. 

Coop, borne upon a big mule, was driving forward 
among our beasts, and was striking them with a 
heavy goad. Terrified by the assault, they gave 
way, and, as I took this in, two more lost their 
footing and went over the dreadful precipice,* with 
horrid screams. Coop laughed and struck again, 
wedging a frightened Indian against the mountain- 
side with the rump of his beast. Houston was yelling 
from behind me, and pulling at something in his 
saddle. A fifth mule went over; and Coop turned 
in the narrow space with surprising dexterity, and 
I saw, to my amazement, that his legs were locked 
together under the belly of his mule ! He was tied 
to his mount ! A report rang out, and I saw Hous- 
ton’s rifle at his shoulder. Coop swayed, but his 
beast quickened, and, as he passed behind the curve, I 
saw the man’s wasted body shaking and shivering in 
the saddle like a parcel of loose bones. 

We quieted the mules, and made an examination 
of our losses. Houston’s eyes had drawn small 


The Law of the Wild 85 

and narrow and deeply back, as it seemed, into their 
sockets. 

“ He ’s guessed ; it ’s his last act ; it ’s his re- 
venge,” said Cassilis. 

I sat on the ledge and lit a pipe, while the Indians, 
having secured the remnant of the mules, stood 
quietly by and puffed their cigarettes. 

I looked at Houston. “ Can we make out with 
what mules and supplies we ’ve got ? ” I asked. 

“We have twelve,” said he, in a cracked voice. 

“ Twelve ! ” I echoed, for I could only see half a 
dozen pack mules left. 

“ There are those behind,” he said, moving off. 
I looked interrogatively at Cassilis. 

“ He must mean Coop’s,” he said. 

I had not thought of that. Of course there were 
Coop’s, justly forfeited by that savage act of war. 
Houston was already giving orders to retrace the 
way, and, the Indians shepherding the mules, we 
wound carefully about the face of the precipice. By 
the time we had got back to the saddle of the moun- 
tains, it was near dusk, but Houston did not rest. 
Diego, despatched to reconnoiter, located Coop’s 
camp about three miles back in a natural cairn ; 
and it was barely dark when we started, all armed. 

The first thing that struck me as we came up was 
the absence of any sentry after Coop’s desperate 
attack on us. Then, as we drew nearer, under a 
rising moon, there were no signs of life; and finally 
we were brought up with the tents in full light, and 
nothing in the eye save naked rock. 

Houston went first, and I followed warily, as you 


86 


The Big Fish 

may suppose, after our recent adventure. Houston 
stalked to a tent, and threw open the flaps. The 
moon struck in, and showed us emptiness. The place 
was deserted. 

“ We ’re too late,” said Houston hungrily. 

I pushed past him round the upstanding rocks, and 
came upon the body of a mestizo, dead as a door- 
nail, with his hand on a broken bridle, and a bullet 
in his heart. Five feet away lay Coop, unconscious, 
thin as a wisp, and barely breathing, but with a 
revolver in his weak fingers. The mestizo had been 
shot as he was making off. There were no other 
signs of any human being on the slopes. 

The whole case unrolled itself now before me. Coop 
had been deserted by his men, and robbed of his 
remaining mules, while he lay on his sick-bed. His 
last effort had been made against us that afternoon, 
when he was next door to a corpse, and had had 
himself strapped upon his beast lest he should fall 
off. That spirit, indomitable in a little vulgar cock- 
ney, demanded recognition. Mentally I took off my 
hat to him. 

Houston looked down on the remains. 

“ It ’s just as well,” he said. “ It saves trouble.” 

Diego, whom we had brought with us, was ex- 
ploring in the moonlight, and now returned with 
news which he communicated to his master. Houston 
nodded. “ We shall have the contents of a pack, 
anyway,” he explained to us. “ The Indians have 
made a clear track of it.” 

Coop moaned, and he regarded the body in- 
differently. 


87 


The Law of the Wild 

44 Saved us trouble,” he repeated. 

44 We can’t leave him like this, of course,” said 
Cassilis. 

Houston turned in a leisurely way. 44 We can talk 
it over at supper,” he said. 44 There don’t seem 
many alternatives. May I ask if either of you 
gentlemen has had any medical training? ” 

We both disclaimed knowledge of that sort. 

44 Well, you don’t propose to salve much of Coop, 
then,” he went on, with what was very much like a 
sneer. 44 1 ’ve seen enough of things in this altitude 
to know. That ’s a dead man. And, anyway, if he 
is n’t, it ’s not our funeral.” 

The phrase had an ironic, a savage aptness. 

44 We can’t leave him,” said I, standing by 
Cassilis. 

44 My good sir, what do you propose?” asked 
Houston, as if appealing to our reason. 44 We can’t 
heal him. To take him with us to higher altitudes 
would only hasten his fate. There ’s no means of 
sending him back. He ’s a goner in any case. And 
he took his risks in war. He knew it. Look at 
this afternoon. In war, men are shot at sight for 
that.” 

That seemed to recall something to him, and he 
bent over Coop and examined him. 44 I thought so,” 
he said, with an air of proud triumph, 44 though it 
was a galloping shot.” 

44 Was he hit? ” I asked, feeling somehow vaguely 
that this added to the horror. 

Houston nodded. 44 He ’s done for — clean. Can’t 
live out the night.” 


88 


The Big Fish 

“ We can’t leave him,” I broke out angrily. 

“ It ’s all very well, but it ’s not human,” Cassilis 
added to my protest. 

Houston gathered himself up. 66 Anyway, let ’s 
get back. We can’t do anything now,” he said. 

That was true enough. We had no mules, and 
we could not carry Coop across the wild country 
without one. Reluctantly we followed our leader, 
but not until Cassilis and I had dragged the helpless 
Coop into the shelter of the tent. He had fallen 
blankly still when we left him. I wondered if he 
still lived. 

The camp had gone on and was pitched beyond 
the dangerous defile when we reached it. It was then 
about nine o’clock, and the spare supper was spread 
for us. Houston talked. 

“ This is war, gentlemen,” he said. “ If you 
imagined it was going to be anything else when 
Werner took hold, you ’ve been deceiving yourselves. 
It ’s not a Sunday-school business at the best, and 
at the worst it ’s — anyway, don’t waste good sym- 
pathy on carrion like Coop. He had his shot and 
misfired. It ’s our turn. I reckon that ’s how the 
universe goes. It wheels on opportunity. You may 
bet your life ours won’t come uppermost again if 
we throw this away.” A little later he said : “ If 
we ’re going to carry this through, it ’s no use turn- 
ing sentimental. Coop ’s one of Werner’s pawns 
sacrificed. It was our business to see that he did n’t 
make good, and we did.” He paused. “ To think 
the fellow spent himself in merely keeping tabs on 
us! He was worthy better employment. Anyway, 


89 


The Law of the Wild 

that ’s done with. Nothing we can do could keep 
him alive. We may be in as bad a case as he 
presently.” 

There was something in that rare air. I have 
told you how I went mad one night. Well, there ’s 
a poisonous quality in climate. Look at the reve- 
lations of African travel. I make no excuses. I 
think Cassilis and I merely ceased to argue. I sank 
into slumber, oblivious of Coop. I must have been 
awakened by the noise of the mules; for when I 
went out the moon was full overhead, and I could 
see figures moving at a little distance. I heard 
Indian voices, and then Houston’s. I stood rest- 
less, uneasy. 

I was aware that a shadow had joined me. 

44 Awake? ” I said casually. 

44 Yes, and being awakened, I do despise my 
dream,” quoted Cassilis, softly. 

44 You feel like that? ” I asked. 44 I ’ve been ask- 
ing myself these last five minutes if it ’s the same 
John Poindexter who once — ” 

44 Yes, it is,” he said. 44 Let ’s get to work.” 

44 You mean — ” 

44 My dear boy, we can only mean one thing,” he 
said. 44 We ’d better take a mule, of course.” 

I don’t think we said anything more on the sub- 
ject, but merely went on with our preparations 
quietly. Houston must have gone to lie down, for 
we saw no more of him; and our arrangements met 
with no interruption. 

We reached Coop’s deserted camp with a round 
moon wheeling overhead, and lighting the naked 


90 The Big Fish 

rocks on all sides. It was like a Golgotha, I thought, 
a place of skulls, of bones, a charnel house. 

We found our way to the tent and opened it. 
Coop was not there. 

It was some time before we had convinced our- 
selves that the body had disappeared, and then I 
think the same thought struck both of us in the one 
minute. What had Houston been doing? I was 
conscious of a rising nausea in the pit of my 
stomach. 

44 Houston ’s been here,” said Cassilis, putting our 
fears in shape. 

44 I saw him with the mules in the camp,” I 
assented. 

“ He wanted to make sure,” said Cassilis, drearity. 
“ Does n’t it run 4 mak’ siccar ’ in the old Scotch 
story? ” 

I did n’t answer. 44 It ’s what we committed our- 
selves to,” he went on. 44 I don’t know that he ’s 
much more guilty than we.” 

44 Don’t tell me that,” I broke out fiercely. 44 What 
are we here for? And what was he here for? ” 

Cassilis shrugged his shoulders. 44 Perhaps he was 
more beneficent,” he said. 44 The sooner it ’s over the 
sooner to sleep.” 

44 Anyway, I ’m not going on without an under- 
standing with that murdering ruffian,” I exclaimed. 

44 Oh, we are, we are,” said Cassilis, impatiently. 
44 He ’s the only man among us. What are we — 
both of us? Wrecks, remnants, shadows of civiliza- 
tion. I have no doubt we ’ll breed our own new rules 
in the new conditions. Coop was merely an incident.” 


91 


The Law of the Wild 

We made our way back, a prey to gloomy thoughts. 
Cassilis was right, we were committed to our fate. 
We had been committed to it, as a matter of fact, 
from the hour in which we struck that bargain with 
Houston. We should go back and say nothing. 
What was there to say? Houston had acted by 
the law of the wilderness. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE RECOVERY 


ASSILIS was right. We never broached the sub- 



ject to Houston. We crept back as we had 
stolen forth, like thieves in the night, afraid, furtive, 
with a strange new scheme of perverted feelings. 
The law of the wild was growing up about us, and 
moulding us. I saw it in the naked crags, in the 
desolate puna, in the everlasting snow fields. Hous- 
ton was the only one of the three who made any 
pretence of cheerfulness, and I could not but see 
that it was an effort on his part. He left us pretty 
much to ourselves, but when he did mix in our com- 
pany he was comparatively loquacious. I have said 
he talked well, and he had a store of experience from 
which to draw. I sometimes wondered how rich the 
store might be, and how much he dare bring into 
the light. Cassilis had grown silent, even surly. I 
could not recognize in him the bright, resilient, con- 
fident nature which had always attracted me. He 
seemed fallen flat, as if under weights, and to make 
no response to external things. By this time we 
were both acclimatized to the mountain sickness, but 
I wondered if there were an aftermath — what the 


93 


The Recovery 

doctors call “ sequelse,” as in the case of influenza. 
I did not like the idea of Cassilis moody, brooding. 

He broke it to me on the second day. Houston, 
freed of his masters, had set his compass for the 
goal of our hopes. We had gathered that we were 
within a week’s camp of Astarnok. The word rang 
on his lips as it were from a clarion. Cassilis stirred, 
cleaned out his pipe, and watched the back of the 
man as he went from us, clean, upstanding, lithe, a 
handsome, sinister being. 

“Jack, do you remember that night?” Cassilis 
was speaker. 

I pondered. I knew in a minute, but “ What 
night? ” I asked peevishly. It was only three days 
old, but it seemed to be buried history. The savage 
peak of the Cordillera across the gorge was like some 
agony in the Inferno of Dante. I saw damned human 
souls climbing it and falling. 

“Jack,” said Cassilis, in a lower voice, losing 
somehow the whole of that distance which had come 
between us, “ Jack, we ’ll never reach the place, and 
we shall find nothing.” 

“Why the devil shouldn’t we?” I asked im- 
patiently. 

Cassilis was looking down into the black gorge, 
with a musing eye. “ Don’t you think Coop ’ll do 
it? ” he asked. 

I stirred uneasily. What had flashed through a 
weakened brain in the dead watches of the night, 
when it seemed hard to breathe the thin air? 

“ Superstitious? ” I shot at him in a sneer. 

He lit his pipe slowly. “ No ; it ’s conviction. 


94 


The Big Fish 

You ’ve got it. Coop will do for us in death what 
he failed in life.” He shuddered. “ I feel Coop all 
about.” 

“ Look here, Dick,” I said firmly. “ Drop all that. 
It ’s bad enough to face the facts and the circum- 
stances, let alone inventing and imagining.” 

He made no answer to this, but presently he 
knocked out his pipe and laughed. u I ’d like to see 
Houston’s face when Coop does him out of it,” he said. 

Of course he was abnormal. I can see that now. 
But at the time it did not seem so odd. He had 
got home when he had suggested that I myself had 
been obsessed by certain feelings. Coop was becom- 
ing a burden to both of us — not, I mean, a burden 
of conscience, for we had come to accept the law of 
the wild, but rather a burden of vengeance. I think 
we both hated Coop. I know I did. But something 
was pursuing us, and we both dimly recognized what 
it was. In death the cockney was as vulgar as in 
life, but he was more formidable. He rode the air. 

Houston was never affected, as far as we could 
see. On the contrary, his cheerfulness appeared to 
increase, and when he announced that we were only 
four days, by his reckoning, from Astarnok, his ex- 
citement manifested itself. It was not wholly a 
healthy manifestation. He grew jerky of manner, 
fell into silences, and came out of them jubilant, all 
but chuckling. I did not fancy the man in that 
condition, little as I had fancied him before. I 
thought this must be the particular way in which 
the abominable influence of those altitudes and soli- 
tudes took him. 


95 


The Recovery 

On the afternoon of that day, I was walking in 
Houston’s company over a rough piece of ground, 
with the mules in the rear, when of a sudden I heard 
a low exclamation from him, and his face staring 
up at the bluff opposite underwent a deadly change. 
I followed his gaze, and saw two figures on the sky- 
line of the spur. Houston lifted his rifle with a 
cry like a wounded animal. 

“ Stop it, you fool ! ” I shouted, knocking the 
barrel up. 

The report rang and echoed among the rocks. I 
swung my service glasses round and directed them 
across the gully. 

“ It ’s a woman, you idiot ! ” I shouted. 

Houston stood quivering, and his face slowly 
melted back into its fluent, mobile condition. “ I ’m 
sorry,” he said. “ I thought it was — I wonder 
what a woman ’s doing here.” 

We should soon know, for the trail they were 
following was converging toward ours. As I looked, 
I saw another figure, which also seemed short-skirted, 
and then the nodding heads of mules. We moved on 
without a sign, toward the point of convergence, 
but when some three hundred yards still separated 
us, I climbed up the slope toward the now obvious 
female figures. They were both clad suitably for 
those heights, and each wore blue glasses, which 
prevented any proper view of their faces. I will 
confess to a sudden live interest in them, which 
served to make me realize how deeply, how aston- 
ishingly, we were cut off from all that constituted 
civilization. 


96 


The Big Fish 

“ This is a queer place to meet in,” I remember 
I began, hat in hand, and I saw the woman who was 
in front turn her head aside, and put out her hand 
to a big boulder near. The other stepped forward, 
as if to cover the significance of this movement, what- 
ever it might be, and said in English: 

“ I ’ m right glad. We were getting pretty lonely. 
It preys on your nerves, does n’t it? ” 

I answered her, as one would answer a new ac- 
quaintance, and we spoke in a friendly way. I was 
conscious that the other woman had moved away 
past the boulder, and was giving instructions to the 
muleteers in the rear. Then she joined her com- 
panion. 

“How many are you?” she asked, speaking for 
the first time, in a clear and rather low voice. 

I told her we were three in number, and added 
that we were prospectors. Under this style we had 
agreed from the first to hide our quest. “ My 
name ’s Poindexter,” I added. 

Probably she took it as a challenge, at any rate 
as an invitation. 

“ Mine is Varley,” she said slowly, “ and this is 
Mrs. Chester.” 

“ You ’re wondering,” said Mrs. Chester, with a 
laugh, “ what brings two unattached women out into 
this. I ’ve been wondering that a lot myself, and 
I have come to a conclusion which satisfies me, but 
not Miss Yarley. Do you happen to have any 
olives? ” 

I laughed. “ Yes, I believe we have,” I said. 

“Stuffed?” she inquired whimsically. 


97 


The Recovery 

“ Stuffed, I think. My friend Cassilis refuses to 
travel without them.” I indicated Cassilis, who was 
now quite close. 

He lifted his hat. Miss Varley regarded him 
fixedly through her blue spectacles. 

“ But we are stopping you,” I said. 44 Let us 
go down, and we ’ll find the olives, unless Cassilis has 
eaten them all. I assume we ’ll make a common 
camp to-night.” 

44 Of course,” said Mrs. Chester. 44 Do you know, 
I was mighty glad when I saw you. What were you 
shooting at? ” 

44 Oh — a — a condor,” I said lamely. 

44 1 hate those creatures.” She shuddered. 44 1 
can’t get accustomed to them. Miss Varley ’s a 
good shot ; I ’m not. The thing kicks so hard.” 

She leaned on my arm as we descended through 
the rough stones, and I don’t know that she was even 
aware that she had done so. She rambled on with 
the unselfconsciousness of a child. I began to like 
Mrs. Chester, and to wish I could see her face 
properly. All her features were elusive behind those 
disfiguring glasses. The two 44 outfits ” commingled, 
but I could not see Houston. He was somewhere 
ahead. 

44 We have always had Manuel to choose our camps 
for us,” said Mrs. Chester. 

Houston was shouting in the distance, and as he 
came back he encountered two of our Indians. Then 
he marched up, a smile on his burned face. 

44 This is your — this is your other companion? ” 
inquired Mrs. Chester. 


98 


The Big Fish 

I made the introductions. “ Mrs. Chester — Miss 
Varley — this is Mr. Houston.” 

There was a moment of absolute stillness on the 
part of both women. I was conscious of that, though 
Houston was making a conventional response. Then 
quite suddenly, Miss Varley took off her glasses and 
stared at him. I have told you that I have a habit 
of noticing niceties; her eyes were full, wide and 
inquiring, as if regarding a specimen under a glass 
with awakened interest. Mrs. Chester was talking 
with Cassilis, exchanging, I think, experiences of 
the soroche. Houston, who had a good deal of man- 
ner with women, as he had shown on board, was offer- 
ing his most engaging social properties. I watched 
Miss Varley. 

Her face was somewhat pallid, and finely moulded, 
with rather a broad brow, and bold features. Her 
hair and eyebrows were dark, but her eyes were gray 
beneath, and very steady and quiet. What struck 
me most was the latent power of her whole poise. 
She gave one the impression of reserves. Her body 
moved easily and with just grace upon its hinges, 
so to speak. She swept her gaze on me, and there 
was something from which I winced. 

I had never seen a more beautiful woman. That 
was my impression; and yet, when I took her to 
pieces afterwards, I wondered why. I had seen faces 
more vivid, with more regularly handsome features ; 
I had seen greater animation, which so often goes to 
save an otherwise commonplace appearance; I had 
seen more color, style and charm in faces. But I 
had never seen one more striking, never one which 


99 


The Recovery 

made a pull upon me so deeply with that personal 
magnetism which is, or may be, individuality, and 
which is certainly beauty. Mrs. Chester called her, 
and her face suddenly broke into a smile. That was 
the last and completing effect. I almost thought I 
had been waiting for that. At any rate, it achieved 
the final triumph. The radiance of that smile flashed 
a charm even upon these barren hills. 

“ Now you will be able to dine for the first time, 
Freda,” she said, as if indulgently to a younger child. 

Mrs. Chester also had stripped off her glasses, and 
I saw her for what she was, a pretty, vivacious, 
round-faced blond of thirty, whd was engrossing 
Cassilis’s eyes. 

“ We ’re botanizing,” said Miss Varley to Hous- 
ton. “ I hear you ’re prospecting.” 

“I’m not botanizing,” interjected Mrs. Chester, 
who had heard this. “ I ’m merely the commissariat. 
Miss Varley is the scientific head of the expedition.” 

“ The word is pretentious,” suggested Miss Var- 
ley, a faint smile playing on her face. 

“I don’t think so. Do you, Mr. Cassilis?” said 
Mrs. Chester, seating herself on a rock, prepared to 
argue the point. “We ’ve come all the way from 
New York to explore, and lost a precious season in 
consequence.” 

“You like seasons?” asked Cassilis, who hated 
them, or at least had avoided them, for ten years or 
more. 

She was hesitating, playing him like a finished 
coquette, I judged; but Miss Varley seemed to think 
a deeper explanation was required. 


100 


The Big Fish 

44 As a matter of fact, the expedition, as Mrs. 
Chester insists, was equipped by Vassar. You see, 
this region is one of the few not fully investigated. 
We considered it a reproach to the United States that 
it should remain so.” 

She was looking at me with that curiously discon- 
certing regard of hers. 

44 I agree,” I said, “ but it seems a reproach also 
to men that it is left for women to — ” 

“ Yes,” she nodded, smiling, 44 that is one of my 
points. That touches me nearly.” 

44 Mercedes is a suffragist,” broke in Mrs. Chester, 
overhearing. “ She is an ardent feminist. I can’t 
soar after her all the way. Even although I ’ve been 
married — ” 

44 1 was in hopes,” said Cassilis softly, 44 that it 
might have been because of that.” 

She shot a glance at him. 44 Yes,” she said, with 
a change of voice and manner. 44 Yes,” very quietly, 
44 perhaps it was because of that.” 

Though my mind mechanically registered this talk, 
I was thinking of nothing just then but of a name, 
Mercedes. It repeated itself in my head, and seemed 
in a way to flower in that rocky canon. 

Miss Varley turned graciously to Houston, as if 
to an acknowledged leader. 

44 1 see my men have already settled on the camp. 
As you have kindly supplied us with olives, perhaps 
you will also add your company.” 

Houston’s courtesy was executed with almost a 
flourish. It had just that amount of over-elaboration 
which settled his social status. But it was easy, and 


101 


The Recovery 

apparently natural. Was this the man who a few 
days earlier — We somehow seemed to have 44 civil- 
ized ” with this encounter of the sexes. Mrs. Chester 
was speaking apart with Miss Varley, who listened 
and shook her head. They both moved across the 
gully toward the tents which the Indians had already 
pitched. 

44 Pretty women — both,” said Houston, with a 
connoisseur’s air. 44 Why they will try to spoil 
their beauty at games like these is a puzzle for 
gods.” 

44 The beauty,” said Cassilis, 44 is still to spoil. 
Where are my dress clothes, Jack? 99 

Houston laughed ; we were all human again. 44 1 
think I ’ll take a taxi — ” he said in his turn. 

Our dinner party was a success ; it could not have 
failed in the circumstances. The ladies had produced 
from their stores the most tasteful dishes which mod- 
ern commerce and modern science could pack and 
procure, and something had been added from our 
larder. A bottle of whisky was provided for the 
men, but our hostesses drank from the cold, sweet 
torrent which swirled along the bottom of the gully. 
The subjects of our different quests opened up natur- 
ally. Houston pressed the question of our com- 
panions’ destination. 

44 Ultimately the Montana,” said Miss Varley, let- 
ting her gaze descend the wild scenery, 44 but,” she 
added, 44 there are many points of interest in these 
upper regions.” 

44 You propose taking the Fuega Pass?” sug- 
gested Houston. 


102 


The Big Fish 

“ Yes.” She turned to him. “ That was what 
we set out to do ; but we may possibly change our 
plans, get deflected for a time. Anyway, we go 
north for some days.” 

“ How charming for us ! ” said Cassilis. “ We go 
north also.” 

Houston said nothing. 

“ That will be delightful for us,” said Miss Varley, 
after ever so slight a pause. “ We shall feel almost 
within call of Central Park, sha’n’t we, Freda ? ” 

At that word, Mrs. Chester flashed vivaciously into 
the talk with a chatter of New York. She vowed she 
was homesick, and Cassilis followed suit. I engaged 
Miss Yarley in conversation, but I had the feeling 
of some one climbing a fence. She was quite, oh, 
wonderfully and beautifully civil, but she seemed to 
have entrenched herself in those reserves of which I 
have spoken. She picked her way in a talk with both 
Houston and myself very coolly and in friendly dis- 
course, but I contrasted her with her companion 
much to her disadvantage. This younger woman 
was of too austere and cold a nature. She was too 
much of a piece with those highlands of the Sierra. 
I felt chilled and unsatisfied. Surely beauty was not 
designed to be thus placidly exhibited. 

Cassilis and Mrs. Chester had run to earth some 
friends in common in New York, and were talking 
quite excitedly. 

“Molly married, you know. Didn’t you hear?” 

“ No— o ; that must have been when I was in Siberia. 
I don’t think I had any letters for many months, and 
when I did get them I must have missed that.” 


The Recovery 103 

“ But you ’ve been in New York since,” protested 
Mrs. Chester. 

“ I was there last May, was n’t it? But I was only 
galloping through. I saw few people.” 

66 Ah, you are one of those Americans who regard 
your country as a prison to escape from.” 

She spoke reproachfully. Cassilis shook his head. 

“No; I regard it rather as a home to return to 
when one is sick of the wilderness — this, for ex- 
ample.” He waved his hand at savage nature. 

“Europe isn’t like this,” objected Mrs. Chester. 

“ Much worse,” he said seriously ; “ the wilderness 
there is moral.” 

Miss Yarley, who had lent an ear to this, was eye- 
ing him with interest. 

“ You think Europe is ethically worse than 
America? ” she asked. 

“ Not a doubt of it,” said Cassilis airily. “ Poin- 
dexter happens to be English, but he is painfully 
conscious of the moral decadence of his nation. He 
came here to get away from it.” 

Miss Varley’s gaze rested on my face a moment, 
though she must have known that he was talking 
nonsense. 

“ They say that a course of nature has a bene- 
ficial and recuperative effect,” she said. 

I did not wish to remember at that moment, but 
her words somehow brought back the horrid pictures. 
Beneficial ! Cassilis and I could have told her better. 
It bred madness ; it made devils ; it destroyed the 
common bonds of humanity by which we were knit 
together. 


104 


The Big Fish 


So the evening which had opened with pleasant 
excitement for me was closed in vexation. Nor was 
this latter feeling limited to that one hour; it re- 
curred. Somehow I was at a disadvantage with Miss 
Varley. Though I was drawn by her personality 
more than I cared to realize, I was internally uncom- 
fortable in her presence. She seemed a sort of in- 
carnate conscience, reminding me with her fresh, 
deliberate eyes how far I had fallen from high stand- 
ards. For the next two days I had ample time to 
develop these mixed feelings, for our parties made 
common progress northward. 

It was on the third day that I began to perceive 
Houston was getting restive. We had now, accord- 
ing to his earlier statements, reached a point from 
which Astamok, our goal, was readily accessible. To 
my calculations, it appeared that the place was but 
two days distant. Houston was a man, as far as 
I had judged or could judge, amenable to female 
influence, and he undoubtedly extracted pleasure from 
the society of the other sex. I might, indeed, have 
suspected him of a susceptibility to women if I had 
gone only by his superficial actions. Yet it was 
evident that he was embarrassed now by the presence 
of these two women. 

At the end of the second day, toward evening, we 
descended into a valley which presented more aspects 
of life than we had hitherto encountered. There 
were trees in it under the shelter of bluffs and head- 
lands ; and wild shrubs grew fairly thickly. I sup- 
pose that we had gradually left the distressing 
elevations of the Cordillera, and were now upon the 


105 


The Recovery 

more moderate heights of the Sierra. In this com- 
paratively blooming and flowering valley, diversified 
with trees and the signs of animal life, we pitched the 
camps. 

I remember that there was a flower, a white flower, 
growing in the valley, and I drew Miss Varley’s 
attention to it. We had gone out together as the 
sun fell, and there was a beautiful panorama stretched 
before us. We looked eastward, but the sun was 
going down behind western boulders. I hated snow, 
which is a violation of the laws of vision; yet the 
capped peaks glistened wonderfully in the glow, and 
the jagged precipices, now seeming remote and out 
of our lives, looked no longer malignant, but of a 
great, gray dignity. We stood in silence for some 
time, for she had ignored, or not noticed, my ref- 
erence to the flower, and then she spoke almost 
abruptly. 

44 You are an Englishman, Mr. Poindexter, who 
was once in the diplomatic service?” 

I was a little astonished. 44 Yes,” I assented, 44 but 
no good. I ’ve always been more or less of a failure 
as things are counted,” I added, feeling a strong 
impulse to honest confession before her. 

“ What do you mean by that ? ” she asked, looking 
at me gravely. 

“ Your people know the difference,” I explained, 
in a rather shamefaced way. “ They do things. I 
never have. I ’ve drifted. I ’m a dilettante, an 
amateur in life.” 

46 And Mr. Cassilis ? ” she inquired. 

“ Oh, in a way he does count,” I said. 44 He is 


106 


The Big Fish 


intent on solving the riddle of perpetual motion. He 
has the epitome of the known world.” 

44 You have known him a long time? ” she asked. 

44 I forget how many years it is since Dick Cassilis 
and I met in Vienna. We are old comrades.” 

44 Mr. Houston ? ” she suggested. 

44 Houston? Well, oh, he happens to be associated 
with us in this venture — that is all,” I said, feeling 
uncomfortable. 

She was silent for a moment, and was looking at 
the glow on the mountain. I recovered my courage. 

44 Do you know where that leads? ” I asked. 64 It ’s 
the Fuega Pass, Houston says, and beyond is the 
Montana with its vast forests. Strange, is n’t it, 
that the mountains should divide such contrasts? 
One is so used also to looking upon the East as the 
barrens, that the world here seems upside down. A 
little higher, and you might see, or fancy you saw, 
the sea, beating on the Peruvian shores. 4 By the 
long wash of Australasian seas.’ There is some- 
thing more impressive in the Pacific than in the 
Atlantic. Perhaps it is its loneliness. There ’s noth- 
ing yonder for so many, many thousand miles. One 
wonders what Pizarro thought, when there burst 
upon him this ocean as he crossed the great range.” 

She glanced at me, and then looked at the peaks. 
44 1 doubt,” she said, 44 if he were alive or sensible to 
any emotions such as you hint at. I doubt if there 
was any room in his sordid soul save for gain, for 
lucre, for gold.” 

I was silent a moment, for the dart unconsciously 
barbed had gone home to me once more. I walked 


The Recovery 107 

uncomfortably with my conscience when I walked 
with Miss Varley. 

“ Yes,” I said at last, “ you are right. There was 
no room for anything but gold in his mind. It is 
so adventurers inherit the earth, not the meek and 
lowly and the humble of spirit. Adventurers and 
those heroes, the merchant princes — the world yields 
her treasure to these. It is sad, but we cannot re- 
make the universe; and there must be purpose in it.” 

Somewhere from behind the scrub of trees which 
screened the joint camps issued the tinkle of a banjo, 
and voices raised in song. 

Miss Varley smiled. “ Is that an answer? ” she 
asked, with a little irony. “ Do we live for that? ” 

“ It is a diversion by the way,” I said firmly. 

“ On the way to what? ” 

She turned without waiting for an answer, and 
descended the slopes. The absurd banjo which 
Cassilis had drawn from the recesses of his baggage 
twanged on the evening air. 

“ It is rather pretty in effect,” admitted Miss 
Varley, as I overtook her. We walked down in 
silence, listening, and now the gurgling of a stream 
joined the harmonies of voice and instrument. 

“ What nonsense is he singing? ” asked my com- 
panion, smiling. 

I could n’t catch the words, but I remembered 
Kipling, and I quoted: 

“ * The tunes that mean so much to you alone — 

Common tunes that make you choke and blow your nose, 
Vulgar tunes that bring the laugh that brings the groan — 

I can rip your very heartstrings out with those.’ ” 


108 


The Big Fish 

“ You do feel like that, too? ” she asked suddenly. 
“ I thought I was foolish. Oh, it ’s all nonsense, 
but — ” 

Never had I seen my marble queen touched to such 
mere human issues. Her pleasure flowed over her 
in a warm gush. The inane strings of the banjo, 
heard in that desolate wilderness, had moved her, 
broken her down. 

“I am Memory, I am Torment — I am Town! 

I am all that ever went with evening dress ! ” 

Had not the Cordillera perhaps had its play also 
with this soul, and was it now newly humanized and 
recovered for emotion? 


CHAPTER VII 


A PARTING OF THE WAYS 

T HAT night, I remember, Houston spoke of the 
pass, and of the Montana beyond. He spoke as 
if he took it for granted that our ways would now 
diverge. The pass del Fuego lay at the head of the 
valley, and was one of the easiest into the back country 
of the Amazon waters. Miss Varley said very little, 
beyond putting a question or two, but Mrs. Chester 
displayed considerable eagerness to learn more of 
the Montana, and showed also a certain sentiment 
at the prospect of our parting. I noticed this, and 
that is why, when we had the surprise next morning, 
I knew for certain that Miss Varley had made up her 
mind at the last moment. Mrs. Chester no doubt 
had been informed in the night, but she had not known 
when she was talking with us that evening. 

Houston it was who gave me the information, 
brusquely, and accompanied by the nearest approach 
to uncivil manners I had ever seen in him. 

“ Did you know that Miss Varley ’s decided not 
to go by the pass ? She ’s going north. Had you 
anything to do with it? ” 

I stared at him. “ What should I have to do with 
that lady’s plans ? ” I asked slowly. “ I ’m delighted 


110 


The Big Fish 

to hear we shall have her company a little longer. 
But will you be good enough to tell me wherein you 
suppose me to be concerned in her plans ? ” 

He begged pardon, after a short pause. “ It ’s 
put me out, Poindexter. We ’re just in our last lap, 
and I guess I ’m on edge a bit. Surely you see we 
can’t act until these ladies are gone.” 

It was true enough, but I don’t think I had real- 
ized, till that moment, how little I had been thinking 
of the Big Fish, and how much of other things. 

I made a reluctant assent, qualifying it. “ It is 
not likely that they will delay much longer. I under- 
stand that these more fertile valleys have attracted 
them. The flora is necessarily richer. They will not 
go beyond the oases.” 

“ No,” said Houston, “ I suppose not,” and he 
turned away. 

There was a succession of valleys on that trail, 
sheltering a more generous vegetation, and abounding 
with vicuna and lama and other upland fauna. Hous- 
ton said nothing after that protest of his, but he 
seemed to me to have developed, for the first time 
in my acquaintance with him, a touch of moroseness. 
He avoided the ladies, and mingled with the Indians, 
making a business of the readjustment of the packs 
and of the reorganization of the commissariat. 

“ It is true that we can supply the larder here,” 
he told me over his pipe, “ but we don’t know how 
much farther our quest goes. We may be only at 
the beginning.” 

The next night we reached a small ravine, em- 
bowered in the Sierras, down which a tumbling tor- 


A Parting of the Ways 111 

rent brawled through the gulches toward the lower 
levels of the plains ; and here we set up camps. 
Houston had instructed our Indians to pitch in a 
grove of trees near the stream, but below this site 
the valley was broken into rocks and rough places, 
which made a camp for the ladies inconvenient. 
Houston suggested a point farther down, under cover 
of bushes and upon a small ledge which overlooked 
the water. This, on inspection, both Cassilis and 
myself pronounced to be an ideal spot, and here 
accordingly the Indians established the tents. 

Houston had picked up towards evening, as though 
he had outgrown his ungraciousness, and returned to 
his earlier manner. Indeed, it was his suggestion 
that Mrs. Chester and Miss Varley should share our 
supper, which he was at pains to make attractive 
by delving into our stores. He produced some cham- 
pagne, of the existence of which I had been unaware. 
When I said so, he laughed. 

“ I wanted a few bottles to celebrate the day we 
should strike it lucky.” 

He lifted his tin mug towards the ladies. “ Here ’s 
health, mesdames,” and then he looked at me, “ and 
wealth, messieurs.” He grinned and drank. 

We followed his example. He had shown a nicety 
in his choice, health to our visitors, wealth to our- 
selves. And that was the beginning of his social 
efforts that night. He used his gift of narrative 
very prettily, surveyed a good deal of his life, and 
brought to the surface some interesting stories in a 
rambling, unpretentious, but effective way. Both 
Mrs. Chester and Miss Varley listened with evident 


112 The Big Fish 

interest ; and seemed to regret when the entertain- 
ment ended. 

“ You know you ’ve seen a good deal, but you 
couldn’t hold an audience like that,” whispered 
Cassilis to me. 

44 If I had Houston’s rich stores to draw on — 
give me a chance ! ” I whispered back. 

44 How much does he leave untold? ” murmured 
Cassilis. 

44 The shadow of that lies on what he tells,” I 
answered, in the same voice. 44 Would he hold these 
ladies were it not for what they suspect? ” 

44 Do you think so? ” He sat up. Houston’s voice 
was ending. 44 Do you know, Jack, I think they sus- 
pect us all? ” 

44 What, you too ? ” I asked dryly. 

44 You mean Mrs. Chester. I don’t know,” he said. 
44 1 would swear to her genuineness. She is as natural 
as a kitten. But — but — ” 

44 But she is afraid of you,” I interjected brutally. 

Cassilis made no answer. The ladies had risen. 
I do not know what time it was, but the starlight 
filled the sky, and it was time they were returning to 
their camp. 

Cassilis and I attended them, although the dis- 
tance was very short. There was the shadow of 
parting over us all — at least that is what Cassilis 
and I were feeling. We shepherded the two ladies 
down to the point where the stream tumbled in a 
cataract over the ledge, and mounted the small 
ascent on which the camp had been assembled. Miss 
Varley and I were in front, and had done with speak- 


113 


A Parting of the Ways 

ing. Something silenced me; perhaps it was my 
companion’s evident distaste for talk. But we could 
hear Cassilis and Mrs. Chester laughing, behind. I 
reflected. What I had said was true. For all her 
gaiety there was some fear, some anxiety at least, in 
Mrs. Chester’s eyes. In the camp there was stillness, 
for the Indians had settled into the night, and the 
mules were patiently invisible. I thought I was aware 
of a shade that flitted among the trees, but it was 
merely an idle idea. The rumble of the torrent a 
hundred yards away filled the ears, as an undertone, 
like the drones of bagpipes. 

“ Oh, our tent must be over there,” Miss Varley 
intimated, but I only determined what direction she 
meant by the direction she took. We came to a halt 
near a spread of canvas. 

“ Mercedes,” called Mrs. Chester, “ I thought our 
tent was here.” 

“ No, this is it,” called back Miss Varley, “ I 
was mistaken at first. It ’s the difference of the 
dark.” 

The others joined us, and we stood for a short 
time in a knot together, previous to speaking. 

“ A beautiful night,” said Mrs. Chester. 

“ It ’s pretty cold,” said Cassilis ; “ I should advise 
you to keep up a good fire.” 

Instinctively we all looked at the fire, which was 
sinking low into gray ashes. Nevertheless it lit up 
a slice of the foreground, the fall of the rock out- 
ward, and the gray deeps below. 

“ I had n’t realized we were so near to the edge,” 
said Miss Varley. “ Yes, I think we ’d better take 


114 The Big Fish 

your advice about the fire,” she added, and stepped 
forward. 

“ Let me,” I said, and slipped past her to where 
the pile of fuel was heaped. I seized two logs, 
and moved towards the fire, Miss Varley at my 
heels. 

Suddenly I was conscious that my feet had gone 
from the earth, and that I was falling. I fell, 
clutching. I heard Cassilis call out; and some one 
screamed. 

I was aware now that the log I held was caught 
over my head, and that I was hanging from it. 
Cassilis’s voice came down to me. 

“Holding on, Jack? Wait a bit.” 

He seized my right arm and pulled. Eased by 
that relief of weight, I struggled upward, and, 
floundering, came to land again. Then I wiped the 
marks of the struggle from my clothes, and began 
to give attention. 

“ What was it ? ” I asked. 

Cassilis was peering into a sort of hole. He threw 
a log on the fire, and, as it blazed, stooped and 
peered again. I joined him. 

“ Oh, be careful,” called Miss Varley. 

Cassilis was muttering something. “ A trap, a 
regular trap,” he said. I began to turn over the 
sticks that he had revealed. In a few minutes it 
was as clear as daylight, and Cassilis and I ceased 
our explanation. Miss Varley had joined us. 

“ I ’m afraid your Indians pitched too near the 
edge,” said Cassilis. 

“ But that ’s exactly what has been puzzling me,” 


A Parting of the Ways 115 

said she. “ I remember the tent was quite some dis- 
tance away. I don’t understand.” 

“ Wait a moment,” I said, and I slipped away, 
climbed down from the ledge to the lower level, and 
began an inspection. As far as I could judge, the 
drop was at this point about fifteen feet, a sufficient 
fall to imperil the limbs of the unconscious human 
being who should walk into the trap. But for the 
billet of wood I carried, I should have gone down 
into a sort of oubliette. It was constituted by a 
chasm between the rocks, and had been carefully 
concealed from view by twigs and grass and leaves. 
By whom ? And with what design ? Who had shifted 
the tent to the margin of the ledge? 

I came back with these puzzles in my head. 

“ Well? ” said Miss Varley. 

“ It would have been a nasty fall, if I had gone 
all the way,” I answered lightly. 

“ Yes, I suppose so.” Was there something dry 
in her voice? 

“ It ’s lucky you had the wood,” said Cassilis, as 
lightly as I. 

“ Most fortunate,” agreed Miss Varley. 

I was making an examination of the vicinity and 
testing the ground about the tent. 

“ Oh, I think we ’re all right now,” she said, in 
that curious voice. 

I felt awkward. Mrs. Chester gushed very natur- 
ally and pleasantly as to her relief that the accident 
was no worse. 

“ Well, it ’s getting late,” said Miss Varley. “ We 
must say good night.” She was a figure black 


116 


The Big Fish 

against the leaping firelight, and I could not see 
her face. 44 I think also it will be good-by. We 
must start for the Montana to-morrow.” 

There was a stifled exclamation, hardly that, from 
Mrs. Chester. 

44 Thanks so much for all you ’ve done for us,” 
said that little woman nervously, taking her cue. 
She put out a hand uncertainly, and then half with- 
drew it. I saw Cassilis capture it. Miss Varley 
turned to the tent. 44 Good night,” she called. 

Our responses followed her lamely into the dark- 
ness, and Mrs. Chester extricated her hand and fled, 
leaving us there. Without a word we departed. 

“ Jack,” said Cassilis presently, in a subdued voice, 
44 that trap was laid.” 

44 Yes,” I assented. 

44 A fall would break a — a person’s leg or arm.” 

44 Yes,” I said. 

44 We were there merely by accident,” he pursued. 

44 There would have been an accident, if we had n’t 
been there,” I said abruptly. 

44 Then you see it as I do? ” he said, relieved. 

44 How was it possible to avoid seeing? ” I asked. 
44 And what is more, Miss Varley saw it.” 

44 Does she suspect — ” he began. 

I groaned. 44 Oh, the Lord knows what. You re- 
member Coop ? ” 

44 1 ’ve been trying to forget.” 

44 He was quite stupid with anger this morning 
when he heard they were going on.” 

44 1 think he ’s mad,” said Cassilis. 

44 There ’s method in his madness,” I replied. 44 1 


117 


A Parting of the Ways 

thought I saw a shad — Oh, well, we can prove 
nothing. He has the Indians in hand. We are 
merely ciphers.” 

44 1 begin to think we have been that all along,” 
said Cassilis. 

Houston was seated by the fire smoking, when we 
reached the camp, and looked up on our approach. 
I could not honestly say he had a guilty look. 

44 Miss Varley nearly had an accident at her 
camp,” I blurted out. 

44 Accident ! ” He withdrew his pipe and stared. 
44 I hope nothing — ” 

44 A plant had been prepared — earth placed over 
a hole and the trap disguised. If she had fallen 
through, she would have broken her ankle.” 

44 She did n’t, then. I ’m glad.” 

44 And she would have been obliged to turn back 
to civilization,” I added, paying no heed. 

Houston pulled at his pipe. 44 1 wish she would 
go back, but I ’m glad she did n’t hurt herself,” 
he said. 

I thought I saw Cassilis’s shoulders go up. 44 Well, 
they ’re not going any farther,” I said bluntly. 

44 1 ’m glad — I’m sincerely glad,” said Houston. 
44 That ’s the best news I ’ve had to-day, Poindexter. 
Women are well enough in their place, but it must 
be after the markets. We ’re out for something 
more than kisses; kisses are a by-product. And, 
mark you, it ’s not certain we ’re clear of Werner’s 
gang.” 

He shook his head, filled his pipe again, and 
talked cheerfully. The man, inhuman as we were 


118 


The Big Fish 

concerning him, was human in that moment to his 
finger nails. He was almost a model of the genial 
and affable companion, and we sat talking for half 
an hour about the route ere we parted. Cassilis 
lingered with me before retiring. After a silence he 
said, and it sounded oddly enough: 

“ She ’s not afraid of me, Jack.” 

I gathered his meaning slowly and answered : “ It ’s 
a rum juncture at which to make that discovery.” 

“ Oh, I could tell, I could tell,” he protested, and 
we were silent again. 

“ Well, I ’m afraid myself,” I said at last, “ but 
I don’t quite know what of. It seems to me 
that the curtain’s going up again. I think it ’s 
Coop.” 

46 1 ’m not afraid of Coop now,” said Cassilis 
cheerfully. 

“ Then you can thank heaven your nerves are in 
a better state than mine,” I replied, as I went into 
the tent. 

When I got up next morning, I noticed that 
Cassilis was absent, and he did not appear until the 
breakfast was well advanced. Houston made no 
comment. It was Cassilis who explained. 

“ Saying good-by,” he said easily. 

Half an hour later I saw Miss Varley’s mules 
moving. The party were advancing along the bot- 
tom, and, turning a corner, were lost to sight almost 
immediately. Houston had gone, and Cassilis was 
engaged in some task. I rose and climbed a rise a 
hundred yards away. Below I could see the outfit, 
defiling up the valley. We had parted for good, so 


A Parting of the Ways 119 

to speak, last night — I descended into the open 
valley and caught them up. 

Mrs. Chester hailed me weakly, I thought. Miss 
Varley bent her head to my salutation. 

44 I had to come to say good-by, and wish you 
well,” I got forth stumblingly. 

44 Has Mr. Houston come, too ? ” she asked, look- 
ing toward the ridge. 

I flushed. 44 No. I know nothing about him,” I 
said sharply. 44 1 only answer for myself. I wanted 
to say good-by.” 

44 1 fancy it was time we did,” she said slowly. 
44 We have wasted too much time already.” 

Her words were innocuous in themselves, but I 
seemed to read something into them. 

44 The meaning of the word is God be with you, 
Miss Varley,” I said, looking her straight in the face. 

44 Yes,” she nodded. 44 We will leave it at that, 
then — neither of us could better it. Good-by, Mr. 
Poindexter — that is, God be with you.” 

She turned away, and she had not offered her 
hand. Mrs. Chester, as she went, gave me a fright- 
ened glance. I stood, my heart sunk in a sudden 
wretchedness, and watched the procession pass. It 
passed and faded among the broken vegetation of 
the valley. 

I was conscious at the last of that frightened 
glance, and, as I walked back, mortified and gloomy, 
I wondered what was the significance. Was it really 
fear it held; or was it appeal or deprecation? 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE CLIFF 


HAT day we left the comparatively opulent life 



of the valley and moved again across the naked 
Sierra. Houston was in amazing spirits, laughing 
and talking, and rendering himself agreeable, and 
as active as a bee in all the business of the advance. 
As he drew nearer to the goal for which we had 
striven so long and so terribly, he displayed him- 
self at his best. That night he told us that we were 
within thirty-six hours of Astarnok. 

“ You may take it at that,” he said, “ though I ’m 
not sure to a point or two. The fact is, I shall have 
to lay a course, in nautical phrase.” 

“ Have you been there? ” asked Cassilis. 

“ Within a short distance of it,” he replied, finger- 
ing his beard. “ It ’s not what you understand by 
a village — in fact, it ’s a station of the dead. It 
was once inhabited, but is now deserted — long since. 
No; there was never anything to draw a man there, 
no prospect of reefs, nothing. That is why Ray- 
mond hid his secret there, no doubt.” 

It was, of course, impossible to resist the con- 
tagion of the fever. Despite what we knew, what we 
thought we knew, and what we guessed, Cassilis and 


The Cliff 121 

I were inflamed by talk like this. The secret of the 
Incas’ treasure lay within thirty-six hours of us ! 

“ To-morrow,” said Houston, still fingering his 
beard, “ I shall have to trig a course, to make sure. 
There are so many valleys and gulches here. We 
might miss this one a hundred times. If I can figure 
out one I know, I can find the temple at Astarnok.” 

“ The temple ! ” I echoed. 

“ Yes, it ’s Inca work — some say pre-Inca work 
— Chimu. But it ’s never been explored or exca- 
vated.” He thumped his side suddenly. “ By God, 
if it should be there ! But no, it would be too obvious. 
Raymond would n’t — ” 

He sank into ruminating silence, in which there 
seemed even a touch of moodiness. 

Some time after noon on the following day, we 
had reached a level among the crags which Houston 
declared suitable for his observations. It was a 
wild scene, the barren grandeur of which affected 
one’s nerves. So far as the eye could see northward, 
cap beyond cap of the Cordillera pierced the heaven ; 
long ranges, all white, ribbed the horizon, intricately 
confused. Southward, a great precipice cut us off 
from the more gracious country of the valleys; and 
our immediate surroundings displayed the work of 
frost and snow at those elevations. The earth was 
destitute of any growing thing, and strewn with 
boulders, as after some huge blasting operation of 
Nature. The sun beat upon us hot as in the tropics, 
and we had cast off our coats to walk. We took food 
in an eyrie on the heights and surveyed the prospect. 

“ It ’s yonder,” said Houston, indicating merely 


122 


The Big Fish 

distance. “ But which of the gullies I don’t know, 
and sha’n’t until I ’ve trigged the place. I shall 
Want the help of both of you.” 

Neither Cassilis nor I had more than a rudimentary 
acquaintance with the science which thus mapped out 
continents and measured mountains. But we were 
willing, even eager, to assist. 

“ I ’ll call on you when the preliminary prepara- 
tions are made,” said Houston. “ The Indians can 
do those things. Afterwards they will be no use.” 

Cassilis and I sat and eased our limbs, and talked 
and smoked for some time, and presently Houston 
returned. 

“ Cassilis, will you go with Diego ? ” he said. 
“ Across the gully, and up the hill yonder. I ’ll join 
you afterwards. We ’ve got to fix up a base line.” 

When the others had gone, Houston turned to me. 
“ Now we can get to work,” he said, showing his even 
teeth in a curious smile. His eyes were narrowed to 
points in deep sockets. “ Can you use a theodolite? ” 
he asked. 

I shook my head. 

“ Never mind. I ’ll manage without that if you 
only follow instructions carefully. I ’ve put up one 
side of the base beyond there. I want to triangu- 
late with the hill on which Cassilis is.” 

It was all double Dutch to me, but I accepted it 
on faith, and obeyed like a schoolboy. Houston took 
some instrument from his pocket, adjusted it on a 
tripod, and squinted along it. He shook his head. 
“ Not far enough back,” he said, while I watched him 
with interest. “ I ’ll get the angle directly.” 


The Cliff 123 

We picked our way among the rocks to a point 
where the ridge sloped outward, and once more he 
set up his instrument. Still he seemed discontented. 
I looked to the hill beyond, and I thought I could 
see some of the pack mules winding along its side. 

“ Wait a bit,” said Houston, as if sudden in- 
spiration had come to him. “ Do you see that rock? 
Pace beyond it, counting as you go, until I call 
stop.” 

I walked to the rock. “ Now? ” I asked. 

“ Yes. Count ! ” came Houston’s voice clearly to me. 

I walked forward and counted. I was aware that 
I was reaching the edge of a cliff but I could not see 
beyond. It did not seem as if I could walk very 
many yards farther in safety. Twenty — twenty- 
one — twenty-two — I counted. The rock hid me 
from Houston — and then I fell. 

The whole earth shifted under me, and I went 
down. As I did so, there flashed into my mind the 
fall in front of Miss Varley’s tent; but the thought 
was only instantaneous, for I remembered nothing 
after that. 

I conjectured afterward that I had been struck 
by one of the huge stones which the dislodgment of 
the cliff had brought down with me. At any rate, 
I must have been stunned and remained unconscious 
for some time. The sun was shining brightly when 
I opened my eyes, and slowly took in my position. 
I had fallen some thirty feet, but the fall had been 
broken by the debris among which I lay. The slope 
of the cliff was steep, but not perpendicular. It was 
composed of loose rubble and stones, and on the 


124 The Big Fish 

first movement I made I began to go down with it. 
I clutched heavily at the treacherous cliff, and slowly 
my downward movement ceased. I began to examine 
my position carefully. I saw now that I was in 
immediate danger, if the loose stones were disturbed, 
of going down a chute into the depth below. I had 
no means of seeing what lay in that depth, because I 
could not wheel my eyes downward beyond a certain 
projecting ledge some hundred feet lower. If I 
reached that ledge, and it held, I might have a 
chance. I saw no other. I glanced upward, for I 
was able to do that better the way I lay, and I saw 
overhead a number of menacing boulders. The cliff 
was alive with eyes watching me and threatening 
doom. I feared the fierce onslaught of those huge 
crags, which appeared to rest on the soil with no 
roots, and lean towards me. Again my eyes went 
down as far as their range. The ledge outstanding, 
yet not in a direct line, invited them. Below and 
beyond, I vaguely guessed at an empty chasm, from 
which there was a dull roaring. Was it a torrent 
from the glaciers higher up? I had lost my sense 
of direction, and knew nothing. The sun blazed like 
an instrument of torture. 

I don’t know what started the idea in my mind 
unless it was the quickened senses under the inspira- 
tion of peril. I suddenly thought of homeopathy. 
The idea in that juxtaposition sounds ridiculous. It 
was ridiculous, but life is ridiculous, and, if we have 
a sense of humor, death also. At any rate, the idea 
of homeopathy entered my mind, dribbling in, as I 
stared at the hot sky. 


The Cliff 125 

“ Small doses ! ” I repeated it to myself. “ Small 
doses of the poison.” 

That was the secret. If I struggled I should fall 
in a shower of debris that would amount to a small 
landslip. But let me wriggle! 

I wriggled. I felt the earth and stones move 
round me. In a sort of moving matrix I was shep- 
herded downward one yard, two yards — I came to 
a pause. 

Surely now I had the secret. Yes ; it was homeo- 
pathy. I wriggled again, and the pebbles escorted 
me a yard or two lower. A third time I repeated 
the manoeuver, and this time one of the larger rocks 
joined morosely in the movement, and, rolling into 
the vacuum I had made, struck my head. 

For some minutes — I know not how many — I 
was still, dumb, incapable of motion; merely aware 
of the hot sun. Then I recovered, took a grip of 
my courage and wits, and moved again. 

It would be wearisome to take you through that 
terrible downward course. At one point (whether I 
had moved with too much energy, or the stones were 
loose, I don’t know), I descended with a rush for a 
dozen feet or more, and was only held up by a pro- 
truding rock more deeply imbedded than usual. 
When I got back my breath I hardly dared stir, 
but by degrees I regained confidence, and advanced 
once more. It must have been fully two hours ere 
I reached the ledge. 

It was an insecure resting-place after all, but I 
was now able to look down and see what lay beyond 
it. There was an abrupt fall of some two hundred 


126 


The Big Fish 

feet, and then a fierce torrent swirling at the base 
of the cliff. Sick at heart after all my exertions, 
I found my position even worse than it had been 
originally. The ledge absolutely overhung the 
precipice, and I seemed to have arrived at a dead- 
lock. I lay on my side sweating with my exertions, 
and looked out from my eyrie as if it were an 
eagle’s, upon the rocky plain below. 

The heat of the sun, though now far gone in its 
declension, affected me in my weakened state of 
nerves and muscles. I dozed. When I awoke there 
was something in the plain below, which made me 
sit up and stare. 

It was some one riding on a mule — no, there were 
two people. They drew nearer, and halted as if 
uncertain of their direction, some half a mile away. 
At first I took them to be two of our party, and 
then I saw I was wrong, for while one was plainly 
an Indian, the other was unmistakably a woman. I 
rose on my ledge and cried aloud. I shouted, and 
I gesticulated. The woman started her mule up the 
bed of the river, and the Indian followed. I re- 
doubled my efforts, and I thought I saw the Indian’s 
face turn in my direction. The mules stopped, and 
it seemed as if a consultation was in progress. Then 
the mules were pulled around, and came slowly 
toward the torrent. I was still waving my hands 
wildly. Again they stopped, and again they went 
on, but this time the halt seemed to have been to 
consider a plan of campaign. I lost sight of them 
behind a bluff. 

It may have been an hour later, when I had given 


127 


The Cliff 

up all hope, that I heard some one calling to me, 
away on the right. Some bushes here joined with 
the rough ground to make a sort of low wall thirty 
yards away. The face of an Indian was peering 
through, and he was shouting words I could not make 
out. Then there was a silence, and suddenly he 
appeared again, busy with something; he moved to 
the edge of the firm rock, and whirled a rope about 
his head. I understood — it was a lariat. 

The rope swung, twisting lightly, easily, as a 
thing alive in the sunlight, and fell with unerring 
accuracy on the ledge at my feet. I thanked God 
and the Indian for that trick of the plains. But 
what did it there in exhibition among the empty 
mountains of Peru? I dismissed the vague wonder, 
and eagerly grasped the hitch of the rope, passing it 
over my head and under my arms. The Indian 
nodded, and began to pull. 

I reached safety amid a constant stream and rush 
of debris, bruised, torn, and breathless, but un- 
broken; and beyond the scrub I came face to face 
with Miss Varley. 

“You are not hurt?” she asked quickly, and 
without salutation, and upon my reply in the nega- 
tive, added : “ It looked an ugly situation.” 

“ It was,” I said, “ and I owe you my grateful 
thanks for the rescue.” 

“ I don’t know that we can talk about it in such 
heroic terms,” said Miss Yarley, and unexpectedly 
appended : “ There is something else. I have some- 
thing to say to you.” 

“Won’t you sit?” I asked, looking at the rocks, 


128 The Big Fish 

and with a somewhat ridiculous assumption of draw- 
ing-room manners. I was not conscious of my tat- 
tered garments, nor was she. I wondered at her 
face, and was wondering when she spoke. Why was 
she here, miles away from the pass into the Montana? 

44 Three of my Indians have come back from 
Arequipa,” she began abruptly. 

I took this in, but it did n’t, at first, at any rate, 
seem significant. She continued as abruptly : 

44 I sent them down some time ago for supplies 
and — other things. They returned last night.” 

As she paused, I interjected a vague commonplace. 
She had the appearance of one preoccupied with 
distress. 

44 It ’s wonderful how these native Indians do find 
their way about,” was what I said. 

I don’t know that she heard. She spoke in a 
level and rather hard voice, and looked at the glitter- 
ing valley. 44 About a week ago I came upon a 
dying man. He had been shot and left for dead. 
It was in the range back yonder.” 

I was listening now, with both ears straining, and 
with a heart that beat rather fast. 

44 When he revived under the influence of a little 
brandy, I heard a tale from him. It was plain he 
was far gone, and I doubted if he would ever travel 
a day’s journey. Yet that was the only chance, and 
he begged for it — to be sent down to Arequipa. 
So I sent him — under the care of the three Indians 
— those who returned last night.” 

I understood. It was Coop ! Coop in life or in 
death was bound about my neck like a millstone. 


129 


The Cliff 

“ You came to tell me this? ” I said after a silence. 

“ I thought you could make your own deductions,” 
she said coldly. 

“ Please let me understand,” I persisted. “ Why 
is it necessary that I should know that the three 
Indians returned last night ? ” 

Something flashed in her face, and then a baffled 
look succeeded. “ We had pitched camp in a gully 
on the Sierra,” she said, in a monotonous voice, “ and 
later I wandered out and explored. There was a 
moon, and it showed me men on mules busy in a fold 
of the rocks below. I went nearer, and saw them — 
the face of one quite clearly. They were armed, 
and I did n’t reveal myself. I don’t know, but I 
thought they were perhaps on some unholy errand. 
There was a tent. The moon shone on it. I saw 
the men go in, and the one whose face I saw came 
out last, and lifted his gun and strode off after 
the others. When they were gone I descended care- 
fully to the tent, and looked in. There was a man 
dying there, a man with a bullet wound left for dead.” 

Coop ! Cassilis had been right. Never would the 
shadow of Coop lift from our lives then. 

“And the man whose face you saw?” I said 
hoarsely. 

She turned away and said nothing. “ Why do you 
tell me this ? ” I asked angrily. “ Is it merely sport 
or justice? ” 

“ It is neither,” she said. “ I don’t know why. It 
is perhaps because I am not certain. I don’t know.” 

“ You thought that the man was killed by us? ” I 
demanded. 


130 


The Big Fish 

44 I had every reason to think so,” she replied. 
44 He told me his tale.” 

A dozen emotions and thoughts were stirring me. 
This, then, was the explanation of Coop’s disap- 
pearance. It did not lie at Houston’s door at all. 
How far had that cowardice, that inaction, that 
abstention of Cassilis and myself, been responsible 
for the tragedy? I dared not attempt to clear my- 
self. I stood silent; and then sense woke in me 
again. 

44 You want me to defend myself? ” I asked 
defiantly. 

44 1 never thought of that. What defence is 
there? No; I think I was merely influenced by a 
desire for fair play. Even the criminal should have 
his chances. That is why I told you about the 
Indians.” 

44 1 do not understand,” I said dully. 44 What 
have I to do with the Indians ? The man ’s dead 
and — ” 

44 The man reached Arequipa safely,” she inter- 
posed. 44 He had told me his story, and why you 
were wanted. He wished to go back and inform the 
authorities. He wanted to do his duty before he 
died.” 

I stared. 44 What story did he tell you ? ” I asked, 
in a quiet voice. 

She did not hesitate; she seemed now to have 
made up her mind to go through with it. 44 Of 
your offence against the law, of his pursuit, and of 
your — your vengeance on him. He was resolved 
to put the law on your track, if he should live.” 


The Cliff 131 

She shifted her gaze to me. 44 That is why I thought 
you ought to know.” 

“ I wonder,” I said steadily, regarding her, 44 1 
wonder just how much you meant to extend the 
quality of mercy to the criminal. You told me that 
I ought to know — but what ? I know from you that 
this man, Coop, was conducted by your servants to 
Arequipa. Is that the extent of my knowledge? ” 

I could not help the hardness of my voice. It 
seemed once more as if we were engaged in a battle 
to the death with Coop. I felt all the old fierce 
feelings, the joy of fight rising with resistance, the 
callousness in the face of suffering. Coop had 
threatened us in his death. He threatened us again 
in his resurrection. Coop ! 

44 What am I to know? ” I demanded. 

44 The man, Coop, as you call him, has communi- 
cated with the authorities,” she said. 44 There is an 
armed expedition sent after you.” 

I could have burst into laughter in her face; so 
amazing was the irony of it all. We had feared 
Coop, but Coop dead, the spirit of Coop brooding 
malevolently over those who left him to die in the 
wilderness. We had never for a moment thought of 
this, of Coop alive, Coop twisting on his sick-bed in 
his obdurate, tricky, cockney way, to play the cards 
against us. The authorities ! An armed expedition ! 
I could have shouted with laughter. 

44 Thank you,” was all I said. 44 Now we know 
where we are. You have consented to give us then 
a sporting chance, so to speak.” 

44 1 don’t understand terms of that sort,” she re- 


132 The Big Fish 

plied coldly. “ I came to the conclusion that you 
ought to know.” 

I wondered why. And then, revolving in my mind 
all the circumstances of the case — what she had 
seen, her natural suspicions, what she had heard to 
confirm these — I felt of a sudden that I was doing 
her an injustice in that hour of bitter chagrin. 

“ You are very kind,” I said earnestly. “ I am 
doubly in your debt. You saved my life just now 
on the cliff side. You would now save my — my 
name.” 

“ Your life! ” she echoed, looking startled. 

“ Yes ; did n’t you know that? ” I asked. “ Noth- 
ing could have saved me, if it had n’t been for the 
lariat. I wonder where that man of yours got 
his knowledge of it. The Indians here are not 
accustomed to make use of the lasso.” 

She did not answer that, but asked : “ How was 
it you were on the cliff? ” 

I looked upward towards the hill in the fading 
light. Problems began to crowd upon me. I did 
not expect to see Houston’s face peering over the 
mountainside, alert, cruel, dominant. I had dis- 
missed Houston from my mind from the first moment 
of my recovery. But now he came back, an ob- 
trusive figure, and I knew he could not be so 
dismissed. 

“ You remember that unstable piece of ground by 
your tent? ” I asked slowly. 

“ Yes,” she nodded, and our eyes met. “ You 
knew? ” 

“ I think I did. I guessed, at any rate. Well, to 


The Cliff 133 

think that the trick could be repeated on me ! Upon 
my soul, I deserved all I got.” 

“ Repeated ! What do you mean ? ” she asked 
quickly. 

I threw my hand upward. “ A queasy piece of 
earth, rotten, undermined. A wink is as good as 
a nod, don’t they say?” 

She drew a long breath. “ You mean it was 
undermined, prepared — like, like — ” 

“ Yes,” I assented. “ We are having open con- 
fession to-day.” 

“ But that man — what did he want — why should 
he — ? ” 

She broke off. 

“ He has his reasons,” I said. “ Reasons which 
applied to you, too. I think he only meant you to 
injure yourself superficially — a broken arm — ” 

She laughed scornfully. “ And you ? ” she said 
finally. 

“ That is another matter,” I said, and there was 
silence. Suddenly I added: “There is Cassilis.” 

“ Yes, yes,” she said in distress. “ What is to 
be done ? ” 


CHAPTER IX 


WHAT HAPPENED IN THE STARLIGHT 

I T was darkening toward evening, and as yet I 
knew nothing of her own personal situation. My 
own, and its relation to her, had absorbed all our 
interest. 

“ You ask what is to be done,” I said, “ when all 
is done.” It was brutal. But I was a mere bar- 
barian just then. 

“ No,” she answered more quietly. “ You are be- 
tween two fires, but everything is not over. You 
are in danger from the authorities, and also from 
this man Houston. The question is, which is the 
greater peril? ” 

“ You take an interest in our peril? ” I murmured. 
“ I should n’t be here if I did n’t,” she said 
bitterly. “ I am a fool for my pains.” 

“ You can be sorry and yet have no faith. It ’s 
good of you,” I said. “ Only a woman could be so 
generous. You think us guilty and yet would help 
us.” 

“ Not — not that man,” she cried. 

“ Then,” I said triumphantly, “ you have doubts 
as to our guilt.” 

She shook her head. “ I wish I could.” 


What Happened in the Starlight 135 

“ You have,” I declared eagerly. “ And you are 
justified. Coop lied, whatever story he told you. 
We are not malefactors, and he has no authority 
to represent the law.” 

“ But he was wounded — and was left — ” 

She was looking at me, and my eyes fell. “ He 
was wounded in fair fight. He forced it on us, nor 
was it Cassilis or I who wounded him.” 

“ I knew that! ” she cried. 

“ Yes, but there is worse,” I said in shame. 
“ When you saw us, we were searching for him. 
He had been our antagonist, a troublesome antag- 
onist. He had no right where he was, tracking us. 
We are — are prospectors, you see, and we have — 
think we have a rich find. This man pursued us. 
He had no right. There is no law runs in this 
wilderness save that of might.” 

“ Yes, yes, I understand,” she said eagerly. 

“ We found him ill, wounded. We left him.” 

There was a silence, in which I was conscious of 
the flood of water roaring below. I broke it at 
last. 

“ It is no use that we repented, Cassilis and I, and 
came back in the night — but he was gone.” 

“ Yes,” she breathed deeply. “ We had found 
him,” and she added, as if to herself : “You came 
back.” 

I stirred. “ Now you must let me put you on 
your way, as night is coming on.” 

“ You must come back with me to the camp,” she 
said hurriedly. “ Manuel knows the way. You 
can’t go back to Houston.” 


136 


The Big Fish 


“ I must go back to Cassilis,” I said. 

“ Cassilis — yes. Freda — ” she was silent. 

“Does Mrs. Chester know all this?” I asked. 

“ Freda knows everything, but she did n’t believe 
— at least not after — she does n’t believe now.” 

“ And you ? ” I asked gently. 

“ I suppose I have never been tempted,” she said 
slowly. “ But I think I could understand later. 
If I was wrong and mistaken in one thing, I may 
be mistaken in another. I am not hard, only 
ignorant.” 

“ You are divinely merciful,” I said. 

“ I have betrayed you to Coop and your enemies,” 
she said, with a sudden wildness. “ They will be upon 
you. You must come back with me.” 

I shook my head, smiling. “ You know I can’t.” 

“ No, you can’t. There ’s your friend. If it 
should be too late ! Why does the man, Houston — 
Is he afraid of you as he was of Coop? ” 

“ Some day I will tell you. I must find Cassilis 
now. I must see you on your way. Where is your 
camp? ” 

“ You need n’t trouble about me. I have Manuel. 
I ’m not afraid.” 

“ I never thought you were. I can’t conceive of 
you afraid.” 

“ Can’t you ? I can. I have been. I am in 
dreams.” 

“ Dreams, ah ! We are not responsible for 
dreams. Miss Varley, I am deeply grateful to you. 
And, though you may not think it, I value your good 
will very much. I should like you to have as good 


What Happened in the Starlight 137 

an opinion of me as you can. Believe me, I ’m not 
a malefactor. You know the worst.” 

44 You have said that law does not run in the 
wilderness. Does that apply also to ethics? ” 

44 1 wonder what would you or I become if left 
to the mercies of the wilderness for years? ” 

44 1 am no one’s judge,” she said. 44 For Heaven’s 
sake don’t think me a prig.” 

44 1 think you goodness itself. Good-by.” 

I held out my hand. The shades of the evening 
were falling, and I had work. Should I ever see 
her again? She had never touched my hand. Now 
she did so and sent a glow through me. 

44 Thank you,” I said, turning. 44 And now for 
Cassilis ! ” 

Mine was the upward road across that accursed 
hill, and I paused once or twice to watch her go — 
till she passed out of sight towards the valley. By 
the time I had scaled the height, night was imminent. 
The cold was intense; the stars shone; I saw bleak 
peaks in heaven. Somewhere across the next ravine 
of rocks Cassilis had departed with Diego. I re- 
called how I had seen the mules winding about the 
spur. I descended into the chasm, and the darkness 
closed in on me. I had no definite plan in my head. 
My only idea was that I must warn Cassilis of 
Houston’s treachery. I understood some of the 
springs of that scoundrel’s actions, though I had 
forborne to lay bare the workings to Miss Varley. 
He had no further use for us. He had secured the 
knowledge of Raymond’s secret through us, and 
perforce had taken us in as partners and associates. 


138 


The Big Fish 

That silenced us, and prevented a hostile and rival 
expedition. Now he was so close upon his treasure 
that there was no need for ceremony with us; we 
had become mere incumbrances, whom it were well to 
drop casually. I could not doubt that he had his 
Indians bound to him, and I distrusted Diego, the 
mestizo, in particular, for a consummate villain. It 
was he whom I suspected of the trap before Miss 
Varley’s tent. 

When I reached the summit of the farther hill, 
I walked wrapped in night, but able to discern the 
upstanding rocks. Here there was no movement or 
sign of life, and only a gurgling noise witnessed to 
the fall of a small stream among the rocks. I pro- 
ceeded beside this downward toward the bottom for 
some time, and, walking under its cover, so to speak, 
I made no audible sound on the stones. Presently 
I came abruptly to a stop, for the faint starlight 
showed me something moving not far away. I be- 
came as still and stationary as the rocks about me, 
and watched. 

So far as I could make out, it was a man busy 
with a pile of stones, but it was long before I 
was able to determine what he was doing. Then 
at last I noticed that the heap was diminishing. 
As he went on he flung stone after stone aside, and 
then he would peer down on the heap, and next 
throw more stones away and peer again. Seeing 
the man so absorbed in his work, and knowing that 
the water drowned the sound of my footsteps, I ap- 
proached nearer and strove to solve the riddle. The 
man was working furiously, and something in his 




What Happened in the Starlight 139 

gestures seemed familiar. I passed in mental review, 
Houston, dismissed him, and was pulled up at the 
thought of Diego. I had guessed the identity beyond 
a doubt. It was the mestizo who was at work in 
this odd, furtive manner under the stars. 

And then, coming from I know not what source, a 
horrible fear rose in me. Those stones ! I knew 
them. They formed a cairn — a tumulus. Was 
treasure underneath? No; there was . . . 

Suddenly Diego paused in his work, and backed 
away. Then a horrid scream of fear rent the air 
about me, and he began to run wildly away. I 
loosened my revolver, which I still retained, and 
moved forward. Out of the debris of the stones 
something rose, something dark, mysterious, and un- 
recognizable. Was it an animal? My heart beat 
hard as I gazed. Then, in the faint light, the thing 
detached itself from the shadows and the darkness, 
and became individual. It crept and staggered, but 
(My God!), I knew it . . . ! 

44 Cassilis ! ” I shouted, but I don’t know that my 
voice carried far. I was vaguely conscious that 
it was weak and thin, like a reed squeaking in my 
throat. Well, at any rate, I had the use of my 
limbs. Diego was flying furiously, a black and 
dwindling shadow; I ran forward. 

44 Cassilis ! ” I cried. The stumbling figure seemed 
to turn its head, and then to gather speed and run 
at an incredible pace for one so crouched and doubled. 
It ran along the rocky margin of the torrent. 

44 Cassilis ! ” I cried, pursuing it. My God ! 
Cassilis arisen from that tomb among the rocks! 


140 The Big Fish 

I ran blunderingly, but the poor thing in front of 
me sped the faster, as if terror were at its elbow. 
The torrent roared and swallowed my voice. I was 
gaining nothing, yes, something, a little, on that 
stricken creature. It vanished ahead. And then 
the hill ceased, and there was a precipice below me. 

I came to a pause on the brink of the gulf. The 
torrent roared and spouted as it pitched itself into 
the void down to some unplumbed depths below. Had 
Cassilis gone over? Had that thing which had seemed 
Cassilis, a blighted, broken, frightened thing, stum- 
bled over and gone headlong downward? I shud- 
dered and turned back. I was drawn to that mys- 
terious stack of stones higher up. Reaching it, I 
made an examination of the ground, and fumbled 
among the rocks nervously. I was afraid, I think, 
of what I should find there. I turned over a stone 
larger than others, and by the light of my electric 
torch I scrutinized it. I recoiled from the stain 
upon it, and stood up. My God! I knew. I saw 
all now. This then had been the fate destined for 
Cassilis. He had been shot or stabbed and buried 
under a cairn. But what was Diego doing there? 
What was the meaning of his stealthy, nocturnal 
mission to the place where the dead had been laid? 
Dead! It came to me swiftly and with a fresh 
access of terrified wonder. He had not been dead. 
That thing I had seen staggering, loping, flying for 
life, had been a maimed and wounded man, but not 
a dead man. From the tomb the dead had risen 
and scared the vulture at his work! 

I turned back again. I must find out what had 


What Happened in the Starlight 141 

happened to Cassilis. I must descend the rocks into 
the valley where the water fell. It was a precipitous 
way, and I struggled down among the boulders, sup- 
porting myself by them, until I reached the bottom. 
The drop was, as near as I could estimate, forty 
feet, and the mass of water came over with a mighty 
roar. It spread in a pool below, and thence rushed 
down into a bigger volume of water which drained 
the gully at that part. There was only the starlight 
to assist me, for my small torch was only of use in 
detail, and I experienced some difficulty in searching 
the banks. I was conscious, moreover, with a sickly 
feeling in my heart, that no one could have fallen 
into that waterslide and lived. I made search as 
far as the junction of the torrent with the more 
spacious, easier-flowing stream, but I saw no sign 
of anybody. It was probable that anything tossed 
by the torrent into the smoother and deeper flood 
would have been swept away long since into the 
valleys below. 

I came back with all hope gone', yet reluctant to 
leave the scene. It seemed so terrible a way in 
which to part from a friend one had left straight, 
tall, and stalwart a few hours earlier — that he 
should have gone to his doom, a stricken creature, 
flying in panic from the very man who would have 
stood by him to the end. A gulp came into 
my throat — and then my heart leaped in exulta- 
tion. At the distance of a hundred yards or so 
was a man’s figure detaching itself weakly from 
the darkness. I moved towards it with a cry of 
welcome. 


142 


The Big Fish 

The next moment I had stayed my steps. This 
was not Cassilis, but another. The figure advanced 
towards me quickly, and now I saw that it was not 
an Indian, but a white man, and that it was not 
Houston. I waited his approach in expectancy. 

“ Can’t wish you good day very well,” he said, 
when he reached me, “ and good night ’s out, too. 
We ’ll rest content with ‘ Howdy.’ Who are you, 
anyway? ” 

He was peering into my face as he spoke, more 
nearly than civil usages seemed to permit ; and thus 
I got a good sight of him. The stranger was a man 
somewhat over middle height, of a dark, flat face 
with inconspicuous features, and the general im- 
pression I got was repellant. 

“I’m a mining prospector. Who are you?” I 
asked bluntly, in my turn. 

“ Ditto to you,” he answered, with a laugh. 
“But you answer to a name, don’t you? Mine’s 
O’Rourke.” 

I responded: “Mine’s Poindexter.” 

“ Got you,” he said suddenly, and clapped a pistol' 
to my forehead. “ Better go easy, man. It ’s a 
hair trigger.” He whistled, and swore, for the noise 
of the water drowned out his whistle. “ Step lively,” 
he adj ured, “ this is all-fired cold, and I ’ve been out 
for days, it seems.” 

I made no movement, nor was I foolish enough to 
let my hands go down to my pockets. 

“ Who are you, and by what right do you hold 
me up? ” I asked. 

“By right of this,” he said, jogging the cold 


What Happened in the Starlight 143 

barrel against my face. “ Damn your rights. Come 
along.” 

There was a sharp report at the back of my head, 
which made me start, and he laughed uproariously 
as at a good joke. 

“Smarted you, hey? I’ve worked that trick 
before.” 

From the acrid smell of powder I gathered that 
he had let off another pistol in his other hand, by 
way of challenge, intimidation, or signal. It proved 
to be the latter, for I suddenly perceived a second 
figure running out of the night toward us. I had 
had time already to sum up the situation, and to 
make a guess at what had happened. 

The second man arrived on the scene, and ad- 
dressed the other with a high-pitched voice, which 
I seemed to recognize. 

“ Bagged him, Jeff? ” he said exultantly. “ I 
reckon that gives us the cinch.” He came up to 
me, and seized an arm. “ It ’s no use you making 
any kick, young man,” he said. “ You ’re as good 
as dead if you do. Haul him along, Jeff.” 

It certainly seemed that with a loaded revolver 
menacing me, and two stalwart ruffians by my side, 
discretion was the wiser counsel. I signified my in- 
tention to follow, if they would release me. 

“ The cards are against me,” I said, “ though 
I ’m hanged if I know what it all means. Unless 
you ’re actually going to commit me to sudden 
death, I’ll come along quietly. I ’m a bit played 
out to-night.” 

The man Jeff’s hand went into my pocket and 


144 


The Big Fish 

extracted my revolver. “ All right,” he said, “ you 
can ease up, Maddock.” 

Haddock was something familiar in my ears, along 
with his voice, and I said so mildly. 

“ I fancy I must have had the pleasure of making 
Mr. Haddock’s acquaintance at some time. Was it 
in Timbuctoo? Or maybe Tokio? It seems worlds 
away, anyway. And we renew it under strange cir- 
cumstances. Fate is odd.” 

“ Fate will be damned odder if I use my butt on 
your teeth,” responded Maddock ill-temperedly. 

O’Rourke laughed. “ Oh, he ’s good enough for 
you, Maddock,” he said. “ He ’s prime fed and fat- 
tened. I like a deal with that sort; and so, I 
reckon, will Werner.” 

Of course I had known it almost from the first. 
These were members of Werner’s gang, the Black 
Gang, as Houston had called them, whom Coop had 
put on the track of our expedition. I said no more, 
but was busy with sundry speculations during the 
progress of the next twenty minutes. You see, for 
one thing, I had undergone a mental revolution; I 
did not know now quite where I stood; my world 
was topsy-turvy. 

Behind a bluff in the hills a welcome fire glowed 
and sparkled. I was dead weary, and I remembered 
that I had had no food since midday, since which 
time I had passed through some curious experiences. 

“ I hope,” said I, as we reached the camp, “ that 
this will prove as comfortable as it looks, for I have 
a hearty appetite.” 

Jeff guffawed, and the miserable Maddock whined 


What Happened in the Starlight 145 

and jangled out something to my detriment and to 
the disadvantage of my future disposal. But it was 
plain these were not the master hands, and I awaited 
Werner with some curiosity. This was soon as- 
suaged, for as we came up, the flap of a tent lifted, 
and a thick, square form stood in the entrance. 

44 It ’s Poindexter, is n’t it? ” he called out. 

44 Right enough,” said Jeff, expectorating. 44 An 
easy cop.” 

44 I thought it would be,” said the other. 44 I ’m 
glad. We ’ll make him welcome. You remember me, 
Poindexter? How are you?” 

44 Rather tired and very hungry,” I replied. 

He stared at me. 44 1 hope we ’ll do a deal this 
time,” he said. 44 Jeff, let them fetch food here. 
I could do with a snack myself.” 

He entered the tent, and emerged with something 
in his hand. The fire was leaping among the brush- 
wood Jeff had thrown on. 

44 Will you give me your parole? ” asked Werner. 

44 1 will for the next hour,” I said. 

I caught flashes of his face in the firelight, and 
it was sardonically amused. 44 All right ; we can 
afford that,” he said. 44 Drink? ” 

I saw he had a bottle and a glass in his hands, and 
I assented. I drank a long-drawn draught of weak 
whisky and cold mountain water, and I felt better. 

44 We have n’t got much of that,” said Werner, 
seating himself. 44 That ’s your fault, Poindexter. 
If we had n’t had to scurry from London — ” 

44 1 thought you had plenty of time,” I interposed, 
shooting at random. 


146 The Big Fish 

The light was red on his full, dark face, and he 
scowled. 

44 That ’s Houston’s lip,” he said. 44 My God, 
when I get my fingers on him ! If he has n’t slipped 
us — it was the nearest thing.” 

44 By the way, how’s my friend Coop?” I asked 
politely, setting to work on the food some one had 
brought. 

Werner grinned. 44 Coop ought to interest you,” 
he said. 44 Coop is a nut. I would n’t lose Coop for 
a diamond fortune. Well, Coop ’s in hospital, doing 
well, thank you.” 

44 1 ’m glad of that,” I said. 44 He was a very 
entertaining type. Like you, I should feel his loss.” 

Werner was examining me without emotion, 
stolidly, almost lymphatically, and his jaws moved 
slowly on the food. 

44 There ’s just one question I ’d like to put,” he 
said at last. 44 Did you know anything of Ray- 
mond’s lacquer box when you bought it? ” 

44 1 haven’t any objection to answer that,” I re- 
plied. 44 1 had n’t the least knowledge of it.” 

44 1 thought so from the first.” He nodded, and 
a scowl captured his face till it was a mere mask 
of morose and malign fury. 44 Some day you and 
I will have a talk about your Mr. Houston. Mean- 
while we ’ve got something more important to talk 
of ; and as there ’s no time to lose, better get on 
with your refreshment. An hour, you said? Yes, 
I ’ll give you the hour. Sit here and think. I don’t 
quite know what ’s at the end of the hour, nor do 
you, I guess.” 


What Happened in the Starlight 147 

And as he spoke, he rose like a quadrilateral figure, 
and waddled away, grotesquely. Yet there was some- 
thing impressive behind that grotesqueness; and, in 
spite of all the new ideas forming in my head, and 
the new recklessness of fate that I challenged, there 
was a strangely uneasy feeling in my heart. 


CHAPTER X 


THE EIGHT BOWER 

T HAT night stands out in my memories in vivid 
particularity. I could not guess the hour nearer 
than midnight, though it may have been short of 
that by some time. I seemed to have lost count in 
the press of my strange adventures that evening. It 
was a fine, light night, as I think I have said. The 
camp lay in the trough of a valley which had been 
the ancient bed of a river, and was hemmed about 
with rising spurs naked as the Sahara, and round 
about these again, but at a greater distance, loomed 
the higher peaks of the Andes. The hollow in which 
we were was filled with cactus, and a shrubby growth 
of what sort I could not determine in the darkness, 
and the play of the flames threw shadows over all, 
— leaping shadows that blotted out the brushwood 
behind, and the tents near it. 

From the time Werner came back and sat down 
with his face to the fire, I had a consciousness that 
I was playing a hand in a game. Of course I knew 
what he wanted, but I did n’t quite know yet how I 
felt about it. I had no passion of hatred for him, 
as I had for Houston, but I was in the position, 


The Right Bower 149 

if you consider, of one brought to bay by a pack 
of his natural enemies. That was how I regarded 
them. They were all vermin together, and I dis- 
tasted them. I did not know what I should say as 
I sat there with my back against a rock and looked 
at Werner’s broad, sardonic face. I was watching 
how he would play his hand. 

“ You know what I want, Poindexter,” he said 
clearly. “ I want Houston’s trail.” 

“ I supposed so,” I replied. “ I can’t give it to 
you.” 

“ No, sonny, not just now, I know,” he said easily. 
“ I was prepared for that. But I ’ve got to have it 
to-night, and so we ’d better get along with our pow- 
wow. Any little natural reluctance or shyness about 
it you ’ll get over in time ; only don’t make it too 
long. Don’t be too coy, Poindexter, or I ’ll have 
to take charge. What time did Houston reckon to 
reach — well, what he was aiming at ? ” 

“ If I remember rightly, he said we were two days 
off what you mean,” I said deliberately. 

“ Ah ! Then that leaves a small margin,” said 
Werner sharply. “ Is Miguel there, Jeff? Tell him 
to get those mules ready.” 

His cool assumption that he would get what he 
wanted out of me ruffled me. Jeff, lean and hard- 
bitten, with his insignificant face, stood watching 
at the entrance of a tent. He smoked in a leisurely 
manner; it was obvious that he left the playing of 
this game to his leader with confidence. I suddenly 
determined what game it was; it was euchre. I 
don’t know why I imaged it thus, but I did. Werner 


150 


The Big Fish 

had led, and appeared to have taken his trick. I 
waited for him to go on. 

44 I ’m going to make it easy for you,” he said, 
in his assured way. 44 1 don’t mind using blank cart- 
ridge, if it will do. There ’s no need to make a mess. 
We ’ve got room for you somewhere.” 

44 You are very generous,” I said sarcastically. 

44 1 don’t know,” said Werner, looking at me, 
44 that there ’s much of that about. It ’s only that 
I don’t want more trouble than is needful. I be- 
lieve in short cuts.” 

44 Then cut it short,” I advised. 

44 You have an arrangement with Houston,” he 
proceeded. 44 You can transfer it to this shop if 
you like, subject to rebates.” 

44 Will you explain? ” I asked. 

I was looking beyond him across the fire which 
was leaping and obscuring the scrub near one of the 
tents. In that obscurity there seemed to be some 
movement; it seemed somehow pregnant with sug- 
gestion. 

44 We hold your party in an adverse position,” 
went on Werner. 44 For one thing, we ’re on the 
tail of you, and for another we ’ve got you under 
lock and key. So we are in a position to make 
terms. As a short cut, I ’m willing to let you in, 
but not on bedrock prices. You shall have your 
share. If you accept that, we ’ll call it a deal, and 
arrange details. I ’d sooner do it without a mess.” 

44 What mess ? ” I asked. 

I saw a star behind a peak on the Andes, and the 
sky was as blue as the sea in contrast with those 


The Right Bower 151 

leaping flames. Still the shadows jumped grotesquely 
about the tent in the scrub; it drew my eyes with 
wonder, with foreboding. 

“ It 9 s a question,” said Werner, 44 of getting what 
I want. I ’m going to get it to-night. You ’re a 
fool, sonny, if you don’t come in on any terms. 
Don’t you know what country we ’re in? ” 

The poor, pitiful figure of Cassilis fled before my 
eyes. I shuddered. 44 It is No Man’s Land,” I said. 
44 There is no law in the wild, save the law of the 
wild.” 

44 That ’s so,” said Werner. 44 You can put two 
and two together, my lad. Don’t you forget also 
that this was the land of the Inquisition. We ’re 
holding an inquisition on you, so to speak, this 
minute. This is Torquemada’s Land, and I guess 
Torquemada’s instruments are not far off.” 

The shadows stirred across the scrub, and Werner 
seemed to turn his head swiftly toward it and listen. 
The star was passing behind the white peak. I 
laughed. 

There was no difference between them, Houston 
and Werner; they were both murderous ruffians. 
They had no right in a respectable world. Let 
them perish! I had been playing my cards lan- 
guidly, not caring, or rather only caring so far as 
to tantalize and aggravate this man. What had I 
to do with the treasure now? I had the thought 
of Houston going down before those other rascals, 
and I hugged it to myself as I made my answers. 
But now I laughed. This man threatened me with 
torture. Let him go on and see. I wanted to 


152 


The Big Fish 

know exactly what kind of man would be let loose 
on Houston. I was anxious for him to prove 
himself savage, brutal. If he were demonstrably 
worse than Houston, I should rejoice. I laughed 
aloud. 

“ You are going to compel me to open my 
mouth? ” I asked, with a sneer in my voice. 

“ That ’s it,” said Werner bluffly. “ You can take 
my terms, or you can be persuaded.” 

“ Persuaded is an admirable euphemism,” I said. 
“ You don’t know Shakespeare, Werner, I take it. 
6 Oh good, Convey! Conveyers are you all? ’ Well, 
I suppose, we ’re all conveyers in a sense. We ’ve 
been after what is n’t ours.” 

“ The Big Fish is his who finds it,” said Werner. 

“ Well, it was found,” said I. 

“ It was found by Raymond,” he replied, “ and 
he ’s dead. We ’ve got the inheritance.” 

66 It seems to me you have n’t, but Houston has,” 
I answered. 

He uttered an oath. “ Come, Poindexter, make 
your choice. We start before dawn.” 

“ Are you quite sure that I shall speak? ” I asked. 

He gazed at me. “ I reckon Jeff could make you 
speak,” he said somberly, “ or Miguel. Personally, 
I don’t take a hand in such things.” 

“ Supposing I said I don’t know? ” I said. 

“ If you said you did n’t know the trail, you ’d 
lie,” he said fiercely, “ and we ’d make you con- 
fess it.” 

I mused. “ Well, I don’t know it,” I said, after 
a pause. 


The Right Bower 153 

Werner struggled to his feet. “Miguel!” he 
roared. 

The smoke swayed to and fro, and the scrub dis- 
appeared and reappeared. A man of small stature 
came running up out of the darkness. 

“ Here ’s your job ready for you. Quick, damn 
you, man,” shouted Werner. He had risen, a men- 
acing ogre, gnashing teeth, frightening to children. 
I did not stir. I was newly aware of something 
seething in that shadow before the tent. Werner 
also grew aware of it. He ceased, stared, and his 
face cooled into a horrid grin. 

“ Wait a bit. I play the right bower,” he said. 
“ I ’d forgotten.” 

Odd, was n’t it, that we had both been thinking 
of the same game? 

“ You can drop it, Miguel. Step lively, 
Maddock!” 

Werner was looking athwart the fire to the 
shadowed tent, and out of the gloom Maddock 
moved suddenly, lank and cadaverous, a specter with 
a whining voice. He dragged at something — some 
one. 

“ There ’s my card,” said Werner harshly, agrin, 
his eyes full of meaning and menace. 

It was Miss Varley. 

I started and exclaimed; she said nothing, but 
looked across at me. 

“ In the round-up,” Werner was saying, “ we 
coralled both. It seems I am indebted to this lady 
doubly. Now then, Poindexter, speak up. It ’s up 
to you.” 


154 


The Big Fish 

“ What do you mean ? ” I asked, shaken to my 
heart. 

Werner spat. “ I don’t know what ’s going to 
happen to Miss Varley. I guess it ’s up to you,” 
he said. “ You stand in a mighty funny relation to 
her, come to think of it, kind of god, or fate. Any- 
way, she ’s in your hands ! ” 

“ I beg, Mr. Poindexter, that you will not con- 
sider me.” 

There was an aloofness in those cold words which 
chilled me. Did she understand? Had she under- 
stood? Could she understand? How much of our 
talk had she heard in those obscuring shadows? 

“ We must make a beginning and go on.” Wer- 
ner’s voice it was. “ You will remember how things 
happened in the Torquemada days. When we shall 
stop depends on you. So you see it ’s all in your 
hands.” 

“ I can give you Raymond’s secret,” I said evenly, 
though my pulse beat like a watch, and there were 
strange voices in the chambers of my heart. “ The 
treasure is to be sought in the temple of Astarnok.” 

Werner came across to me, and put his face close 
to mine, till his hot breath seemed to sear me. “ By 
God, if you ’re cheating me — ” he growled, and 
then, “ All right, Maddock. It ’s off for the mo- 
ment.” He turned to me, and I saw Miss Yarley 
fading into obscurity again. “ You won’t put me 
on the trail? ” 

“ I have said I don’t know it.” 

He mused. “ Why? ” he asked. 

My old thought raced in my head, and I rejoiced 


The Right Bower 155 

in it. Houston and Werner! Why, the latter had 
proved himself beyond my dreams. I could trust 
him. If there were any one more Satanic than Hous- 
ton it was this black-avised, grinning devil. I had 
what I wanted. Unleash them and let them perish 
in mutual blood! 

“ Houston removed himself out of my purview 
some twelve hours since,” I said deliberately. 44 He 
was, when I last saw him, endeavoring to assassinate 
me.” 

Werner uttered an oath which showed his interest. 
44 Why did n’t you tell me this before? ” he demanded, 
and, as I was silent, he went on suspiciously. 44 How 
do I know this isn’t part of the lay? My God, if 
it is — ! ” 

He turned again, and called to Jeff. 44 1 reckon 
that hour ’s up, Poindexter,” he said. 44 We ’ll fix 
you.” 

I shrugged my shoulders. I was quit of all sense 
of responsibility now. I had nothing to decide. I 
had decided. 

I was imprisoned in a tent with two half-breeds 
before it, and all the rest of the night there was 
the sound of voices, of preparations. It must have 
been about an hour before dawn, when the sky was 
lightening, that an uproar arose. There were 
shouts, and the noises of a concourse met, oaths, and 
the evidences of a quarrel. Suddenly the flap of the 
tent was pushed aside, and a black object barred 
the light. 

44 Are you there, damn you? Is this your doing? ” 

It was Werner’s voice. 44 What?” I asked. 


156 


The Big Fish 

44 The girl — you ’ve got her — ” He threw a 
brand from the fire forward and stared. 44 If it 
was you,” he said, 44 1 ’d broil you.” 

44 1 don’t understand,” I said, with a curious 
exultation. 

44 She ’s gone,” he said sullenly. 44 No, it was n’t 
you. It was — it must have been the devil.” 

He swung out of the tent, and I fell back in my 
prison, delighted, rejoicing, yet with an odd sense 
of disappointment. But there was no time left me 
for reflections, for immediately the Indians struck 
the tent, and began to pack up. Before dawn we 
were on the march. I was kept rigidly under guard 
all that time in a scene of bustling activity, but I 
had no converse with any one until the moment of 
departure. Then I found myself under the special 
scrutiny of Miguel, a slim, malicious-eyed fellow, 
with some aspirations to dandyism. He spoke Eng- 
lish, more or less broken, and more or less dirty, 
and he gave his orders without ceremony. I was 
mounted on a mule like the rest of the company, and 
I trailed up the valley in their midst, a captive with- 
out any active desire to be anything else. I was 
now on the road to the final act of the drama, I 
thought, and I was gleefully anxious to witness it. 
I did not know then how many scenes that act would 
contain ere the curtain fell for good. 

I got no information out of Miguel, who was 
surly, and smoked and cursed his mule. But a little 
later Werner joined us. He had lost his mood of 
ferocity, and was amiable enough, even talkative. 

44 The girl did n’t matter shucks, after all,” he 


157 


The Right Bower 

told me, 44 though I ’d give something to learn how 
she managed to get away.” He looked puzzled. 

“ The girl did n’t matter, as you say. You ’ve 
got me,” I answered him. 

44 Oh, we ’re holding you all right, for extra 
safety.” He grinned. 44 I don’t say I don’t believe 
your tale, but I ’m taking no risks, and Torque- 
mada ’s there all the time, anyway.” 

44 1 am content,” I said. 44 Let ’s get on. I sup- 
pose you know the place.” 

He regarded me curiously, as if he did not under- 
stand. Indeed, there was every reason why he 
should n’t. 44 Astarnok is a sort of historic site 
hereabouts,” he said. 44 Some of my men know it ; 
I ’ve heard of it myself. There was once a Chimu 
city there.” 

44 Chimu ! ” I echoed. 

44 Yes,” he said, 44 the civilization before the Incas. 
They say the Chimus go back as far as ten thou- 
sand years. They were wiped out or amalgamated 
by the Inca lot.” He was evidently without interest 
in the Chimus, for he abandoned the subject. 

44 You seem to be in a hurry,” he continued. 44 1 
suppose you ’re figuring that you ’ve got a hand 
in this job. But you ’ll recollect you refused. It 
was on the alternative you surrendered. You 
have n’t got a tittle of a share in the Big Fish, 
sonny.” 

44 My good man,” said I calmly, 44 do you sup- 
pose that if I had agreed to your terms I would 
credit you with the folly of keeping faith? I have 
quite another opinion of you — I rank you as too 


158 The Big Fish 

heroic a scoundrel for that. I ’m not worrying about 
the Big Fish.” 

Pie frowned, but I don’t believe he minded my 
frankness. 

“ What the devil are you at, then ? ” he asked 
bluntly. 

“ It seems to me,” said I, “ that you go one better 
than Houston. Judging, at any rate, from your 
references and menaces last night, I put you higher 
in the ranks of crime. That ’s what I wanted to 
find out; that ’s what has given me such satisfaction. 
For now I have let you loose on Houston, I ’m sure 
of getting what I want.” 

“ What do you want? ” he asked sharply. 

“ Houston, living or dead ! ” I answered. 

His eyes searched me. “ Oh ! ” he said at last. 
“ So Houston ’s been selling you, too, eh? Houston 
would sell his mother. And he ’s slimy, too ; he ’d 
escape the penalty. By thunder, I ’ve a notion Hous- 
ton will be missing at the last trump. But you ’re 
wrong,” he added, “ I ’d have kept faith. That ’s 
the difference between Houston and me. I daresay 
I ’m worse than he in some ways. I ’m no judge, 
but I guess I keep faith. He ’s a Judas. How 
has he let you out ? ” 

“ He sent me over a crumbling cliff when he ’d 
finished with me,” I explained. 

“ Ah! ” Werner was obviously interested. “ That 
was when you and the girl were on the hill, way back. 
That was it, was it? I was wondering — ” 

“ You saw me there? ” I asked. 

He nodded. “ Spotted you both. We kept tabs 


159 


The Right Bower 

on the girl. It puzzled me. I suppose she changed 
her mind. Women are like that. Anyway, she 
served us pretty well.” 

“ Did you follow me? ” I asked. 

“ Yes, but Maddock played the fool and lost your 
trail. However, we picked up the girl to go along 
with. She came in useful. I thought she might. 
She kept tabs on you, I reckon.” 

I began to see that there was a certain system in 
this gentleman’s conduct. “ The Indian?” I asked. 
“ What became of him? 99 

“ Indian ! ” he queried indifferently. “ Oh, with 
the girl? He lit out, as they all do. I know the 
breed hereabouts.” 

Yet I could have sworn that Manuel was no Cholo, 
nor any Indian of those parts. I began to see some- 
thing else, and that was perhaps an explanation of 
Miss Varley’s escape. 

“ So Houston signed your death certificate, did 
he?” went on Werner. “Yes, he’s equal to all 
that. It ’s like him to muddle it also. He don’t 
do jobs clean.” 

“ I hope you do, and will,” I said fiercely. 

“ I think so,” he answered, quite mildly. “ I don’t 
fancy Houston will get through my fingers. He did 
once ; and, by thunder, he ’s got to pay for it.” 

“Will you tell me who Houston is?” I asked 
bluntly. 

“ He ’s a Judas ; he sold us,” said Werner. 

“ You mean he belonged to your gang? ” I asked, 
perplexed. 

“ That ’s so. He sold us. It don’t amount to a 


160 


The Big Fish 

bad tale, taking it all round. Houston ’s fly and 
cunning, but he ’s overreached himself.” 

44 But he and Raymond were partners in the ex- 
pedition for the Big Fish,” I protested. 

Werner laughed. 44 That was the stuffing he used, 
eh ? ” he said. 44 Raymond would n’t have had him 
within a score of miles, if he could have helped it. 
It was Houston he bolted from, Houston and me.” 

There was no shame and no complacency in his 
statement ; it was merely a statement, and that was all. 

44 I ’m interested,” I said. 44 Would you mind tell- 
ing me more? ” 

44 Not at all,” said Werner. 44 We ’ve both been 
sold, and we ’ve got to make good on Houston.” 

44 1 ’m glad you are what you are,” I said. 44 1 
have another reason, a far stronger reason.” He 
looked at me, interrogatively. 44 1 had a friend — ” 

44 Ah ! ” His exclamation was accompanied by a 
flash of the eye. 44 Yes, there was another. Of 
course we knew there were three of you. I was 
speculating about the third man; so that ’s it. You 
said you 4 had ’ a friend. I take it Houston suc- 
ceeded better with him then.” 

I nodded. I dared not speak. 

44 1 don’t believe I need really keep tabs on you,” 
said Werner thoughtfully. 44 I kind of fancy you ’d 
make a good ally. This Judas sold us. He ’s false 
all through. Look, Poindexter,” and animation for 
the first time was in his heavy voice, 44 we were in 
country like this way back, and we ’d prospected our- 
selves gaunt and naked, all five of us. We had lived, 
of course, on the usual canned stuff, and even that 


161 


The Right Bower 

petered out. The rations played havoc with us. We 
tried experiments with the grass, but they were n’t 
a success. It was blazing hot in the day, and at 
night — oh, well, you had some, and can guess pretty 
well what it was. 

“ We were sick, dog-sick of it all, and were on 
the home trail, as tired men as you can want to see; 
and one evening, just as we got the camp fixed for 
the night, there tumbled in upon us out of nowhere 
this Raymond, sicker and tireder than we were. He 
fell at the tent flap, and we gave him a nip of spirits 
to fetch him round. But he was mighty sick, and 
could n’t keep anything on his stomach for days. 
We could n’t leave him there, and so we fixed up a 
litter and managed to carry him on the mules, but 
it must have jolted his inside, poor devil. It was n’t 
exactly flat-racing there. Then he recovered a little, 
and was wonderfully civil. The don had good man- 
ners and style. He vowed he was profoundly grate- 
ful to us, and he hated to be a burden and all the 
rest of it. And I believe,” said Werner, laughing, 
44 I believe it would have all gone at that if he had n’t 
put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a handful 
of coins and other things. Lord love us, there was 
no mistaking them; their appearance and age and 
everything about them was witness what they were. 
They were treasure from a cache! 

44 I stared at them, and Houston got on to it also, 
but the others did n’t — not then. He wanted to 
make it up to us for our hospitality, he said. There 
was the value of a few thousand dollars in the jewels 
in his fist, and as he offered I, for one, was not 


162 


The Big Fish 

going to be foolish enough to refuse. But here 
Houston came in. He shot me a look, and put up 
a hand. 

44 4 Mr. Raymond, I take it you ’re our guest,’ he 
said, 4 we don’t make a profit out of sick men.’ 

46 That was Houston. That ’s where he came in 
always. If he ’d played straight — well, it ’s no good 
going over that. Anyway, Houston stopped me, and 
we had a talk that night. Raymond was full of 
gratitude, choked with it. He said our conduct was 
handsome, and he became very friendly. Houston, 
mind you, had n’t got any further idea than a cache 
somewhere. That was plain enough, but he wanted 
to know more. So did I, after our talk. And Ray- 
mond became friendly, and babbled. He ’d always 
taken an interest, he told us, in the Incas, and in 
the Spanish South American provinces, and he ’d 
formed theories. It was one night when we were 
nearing civilization that he spoke up, letting us into 
his secret. Of course, we had all of us heard rumors 
of the Big Fish. Who hasn’t in Peru? Anyway, 
the name came up in his talk, and Houston’s elbow 
dug into my ribs. His teeth gleamed. 

44 4 The Big Fish ! ’ said he, leaning back, but wary 
as a hawk. 4 If a man should hook that, he ’d have 
to get a net to land it, I reckon.’ 

44 Raymond gave him a glance, for he, too, was 
as sharp as scissors, and shut up. 4 1 should say 
you were right,’ he answered; and never a word 
more passed his mouth on the subject. 

44 Well, you ’ll think that was a poor scent to 
follow on, but it was n’t. Here was a man talking 


The Right Bower 163 

of the Big Fish, and possessed of Inca gold and 
gems. Anyway, it was good enough to call the 
view-hulloa. Houston stuck to him like a leech. It 
was understood we were all in it. Houston was lead- 
ing, because he was reckoned the first-class intellect 
among us, but we were all in it. To make a long 
story short, he smelled a rat. You see, he had n’t 
taken the cache on his back, and so it meant an 
expedition, if he ’d found anything. Houston 
watched him like a cat, and he overdid it. The 
old don got wind of us. He was in Lima at the 
time, and had been making preparations. That was 
what made Houston give himself and us away. He 
took alarm, and stopped, stayed in his hole a bit, 
and then bolted. 

“ He slipped us to Europe. Houston packed after 
him next steamer, and we followed, and after a while 
we ran him down in London.” 

Werner pursed his lips. “ We reckoned some of 
that Big Fish belonged to us. If it had n’t been for 
us, he ’d have been a corpse. He owed us a share, 
and if he did n’t see it, we were going to help our- 
selves. That was how it was. We settled down to 
watch again, and it was mighty slow work. The 
man made never a move. Perhaps he was afraid he 
was being watched. Anyway, he squatted down in 
some London district — Bloomsbury, is it? — and 
lived quietly, and without a sign. At last we got 
tired of it, and we tried inside work. Raymond 
hired the upper part of a house which a retired 
butler rented, who was his landlord. We got him 
for a consideration, and we got admittance to 


164 


The Big Fish 

the place. Maddock had a try, and then J eff ; 
finally it was Houston’s turn, but we could n’t find 
a scrap of anything to throw light upon the Big 
Fish. Just then Raymond fell ill, and lay up, and 
that blocked our operations. So we sat and sucked 
our fingers, and swore in London Town like four 
fools. Then I tried my hand along with the butler, 
and the old boy smelled a rat again. He got nerv- 
ous and peevish, the man said. He went out one 
morning hastily, and when he came back he ’d a 
parcel in his hand. Mullins managed to see it after- 
wards. It was a lacquered box. 

44 I don’t know if he suspected Mullins, but it had 
a look of it. 4 Mullins,’ said he, after a cab had 
been called that afternoon, 4 1 believe there were 
burglars in my rooms last night. Anyway, as I ’ve 
only got one valuable possession, if it ’s that they ’re 
after, they ’ll have to burgle the National Safe De- 
posit,’ and he departed with his parcel. 

44 That ’s where the lacquered box came in, and 
that sold us. There were two boxes, as it turned 
out, but Mullins only saw one ; and that ’s how we 
came to make the mistake — unless it was a chance 
of the auction room.” 

44 Your story is amazingly interesting,” I said. 
44 1 am obliged to you, Werner. We have now 
reached the point where I come in.” 

44 You ’ve hit it, sonny. You come in precisely 
there, and, but for you, we probably should have 
had the Big Fish by now.” 

44 But for me,” I corrected, 44 the secret of the 
Big Fish would have been lost for ever. It would 


The Right Bower 165 

have drifted out of that auction room, blown on 
the winds of chance, a meaningless phrase. I wish 
to God it had ! ” 

But Werner was paying no heed. He had n’t 
finished ; he was absorbed. “ By thunder ! ” he said 
tensely, “ to think that Houston played that trick 
on me ! 99 

I became aware that the story was not finished. 
“ What trick? ” I asked. 

“ We made our shot in the auction room, as you 
know,” said Werner, “ and got the wrong box. I 
guess afterward you smoked something, and clung 
on to yours as a sporting chance. But Houston got 
on to you. He was angry at what he called the way 
we had mussed it up. He started out himself, missed 
it by a shave in your flat, and missed it by a bigger 
piece in the bungalow.” Werner reined in his mule, 
and looked blindly at the rocks. “ Damn the Judas ! 
Then he threw us over, and made terms with you. 
Not a word did he let us know, but kept close and 
mum, and promised that and this, and said it could 
be left in his hands ; but we had a doubt of him, and 
watched. You see, I knew the skunk. It grew plain 
he ’d sold us. He was scared that time in London. 
Then Jeff used his knife — ” 

“ Ah! ” I said. “ Now I understand.” 

“ He was a fool to do that. That can come later. 
It nearly put us off guard. It was only the last 
moment that we got Coop aboard. I picked him up 
cheap in a London tavern, game for anything. He ’s 
a pretty agent, is Coop. Well, anyway, we managed 
it, and now we ’re hot on the trail.” 


166 The Big Fish 

He wiped his brow, lit a cigar, and laughed grimly 
as he puffed out the smoke. 

44 If there ’s anywhere this trail leads to for Hous- 
ton, it ’s not paradise,” he added. 

Jeff was shouting some distance ahead, up the 
valley, and his long arms went out, as if pointing. 
Werner left me, and pushed on his mule, picking its 
way with remarkable celerity among the scrub and 
boulders. The Indians and half-breeds, of which 
latter there were several in the party, brought the 
rest of the cavalcade to a standstill, and awaited 
orders. They lit cigarettes without visible excite- 
ment, and stood beside smoking flanks. The sun was 
streaming down on us, and the white peaks mocked 
our burned faces. Presently the train was in motion 
again. Werner dropped back slowly until Miguel 
and I overtook him. 

44 Houston living or dead you wanted, was n’t it? ” 
he asked grimly. 44 Well, you can have him — I don’t 
know in which state myself yet. It means the same 
in the end.” 


CHAPTER XI 


THE TWO CAMPS 

I KNEW by that that we were at near quarters, and 
I asked Werner. 

“ Astarnok ’s across the ridge,” he said, “ and 
friend Houston ’s there. I ’ll chaw him up in ten 
minutes,” he added, with savage vehemence ; and 
later asked : “ Is n’t there a play or something I saw 
way back in New York about 6 something lingering 
with boiling oil in it ’ ? Curse the fellow ! To think 
he ’d dare to do me like this ! ” 

His face was scarlet, and his eyes bulged, as if 
he were going to have a stroke, but he seemed to 
master himself, and returned to his conversation. 
He was by no means of that sinister nervous organ- 
ization I had detected in Houston. Here was rank 
brute force and rank brute passion, but now in 
control. 

“ Expedition after expedition has tried for the 
Fish, Poindexter,” he said, with a queer note of 
triumph ringing in his voice, as though he already 
had his hands on the treasure, “ and every one has 
failed. They found the Little Fish a hundred and 
fifty years ago, and a tidy hoard it was. But the 
Big Fish — there ’s something in it to stir the 


168 The Big Fish 

imagination, that age-long search, eh? It ’s pic- 
turesque, and would turn into a sort of romance. 
The last lot out perished of starvation and cold 
on the ranges. How Raymond struck it is a puzzle. 
He was interested in the Indians. I reckon he made 
out somehow through his knowledge of them. They 
don’t know anything. I don’t think they would take 
gold if you offered it to them. They don’t under- 
stand it. They ’re full of traditions and supersti- 
tions. Raymond knew the lingo. I fancy that was 
how he got hold of his secret, mooning about among 
them. By Gosh, it was worth it, Poindexter ! ” 

44 Your narrative has been entertaining and cer- 
tainly instructive,” I said. 44 But there ’s a flaw in 
it so far as I am concerned.” 

44 How ’s that? ” said he. 44 Have you played me 
false? ” 

His eyes rolled in black menace. 

44 No,” I said. 44 You have all I know. As I have 
hinted, I think I prefer you to Houston, probably 
because you ’re an unknown quantity, and Houston 
isn’t. No; it’s something in your narrative that 
puzzles me.” 

44 I ’ll answer any questions,” he said cheerfully. 
44 I don’t mind tabling my hand now. What you 
could do, my lad, even if you wanted to, don’t 
amount to shucks now.” 

44 1 ’ve told you I want Houston’s head on a 
charger,” I said. 44 But I have a weakness for a 
rational narrative, and I should like to ask how you 
discovered that the lacquer box would be sold at 
the auction room.” 


169 


The Two Camps 

“ The merest detail, my friend, the merest detail,” 
said Werner, with his eyes alert on some object in 
the distance. It had no significance, however, and he 
came back to me. 44 Mullins, lad, Mullins, a man 
with all the traditional qualifications for butler, in- 
cluding silence and craft ; Mullins, who is now wait- 
ing in London Town to buy a little place in Cheshire 
with his ill-gotten gains.” He laughed. 44 Rum 
notion, some of your English townsfolk have. 
Mullins and his ideal of a little place with a bit 
of fishin’, 4 and a little ’untin’, Mr. Werner,’ says 
he. Mullins had the name of Raymond’s solicitors, 
and we had nothing to do but watch.” He paused, 
and went on meditatively : 44 Raymond died two days 
later; I fancy he had no time to give instructions 
about his box and his secret. Anyway, the lawyers 
had no inkling of it, for Houston called on them — 
one of his bits of bluff and cheek that gets him 
through sometimes. However, he did n’t make much 
out of it. Takes a pretty deal to make much out 
of a lawyer. Everything was sold up and off in the 
usual way to wind up the estate.” 

44 The estate ! ” I echoed thoughtfully. 44 Who 
was — ” 

But a signal was flashed on the knoll ahead for 
Werner, and he left me. For the moment our 
progress was checked, and it was checked by design. 
One of the Indians had kept us in touch with Hous- 
ton’s column, and it was now reported that he was 
moving down the valley beyond the rocky walls of 
our canon. This puzzled Werner, who had heard 
from one of the Indians familiar with these parts 


170 


The Big Fish 

that Astarnok lay farther up on the heights, — the 
grizzled and dreary ruin of a past civilization. 

“ He don’t know he ’s followed. He ’s got a sur- 
prise in store,” was Werner’s conclusion, with grim 
satisfaction. 

That he took things so easily somewhat aston- 
ished me, now that we were within hearing, so to 
speak, of the clash of arms; but he was imper- 
turbable as the action approached, pulled forth a 
long cigar, proffered me one, and smoked, as he 
watched the operations of his camp. 

“ It don’t matter a cuss-word what Houston does 
now,” he asserted genially. “ I ’ve got him. He 
can’t get away from me, and we can take our own 
time. What he knows I ’ve got to know ; what he 
finds is mine. We ’ve got all the fun coming.” 

I am bound to confess that it was not possible for 
me to take the situation with the same nonchalance. 
I burned to be at Houston, to sacrifice him, to see 
him in ashes. You may say this was a vindictive 
and unchristian spirit. I am only stating the facts 
of my emotions, — the emotions, remember, of one 
who had seen his friend barbarously done to death. 

It was as night closed in that we came to our rest 
in a little sequestered gulch above the "ruins of 
Astarnok. The idea of that ruined sanctuary fasci- 
nated me. Werner was undisturbed. What he knew 
was that three miles down the valley was Houston’s 
camp, and that Houston was all unaware of our 
anticipation of him. This tickled Werner, and he 
made merry at supper with his unholy and unseemly 
crew. I did not know which of the ugly gang I 


The Two Camps 171 

disliked most, the mean Maddock, the repellant Jeff, 
or that little, ratlike Miguel, who had been re- 
sponsible for the knife-wound in Houston’s body. 
They were to me a gang of brigands and nothing 
less ; and I had no part nor lot with them. On 
Werner’s own barefaced showing they had all been 
in a dirty conspiracy to rob an unfortunate old man 
of the legitimate rewards of his “ find.” 

That reflection gave me instant pause, however. 
What was I — what had Cassilis and I been? I 
was afraid to face the exact logic of our status. 
The “ find ” had been Raymond’s, and we had taken 
part in robbing his executors of its proceeds! No; 
I could not admit all that. The estate, whatever 
that stood for, was not in possession of the Big 
Fish, and never had been. Surely it was reserved 
for the bold spirits of an adventurous expedition. 
Houston, then? Or these unscrupulous freebooters? 
I gave up the puzzle. Anyway, I had no longer any 
relation to the treasure. I was there for another 
purpose, and if Werner and his thieves should assist 
me to that vengeance — no, to that justice — which 
my heart craved, I was content. I listened to Wer- 
ner, smoked, and looked down on the broken stone 
walls fading into darkness. I could at least share 
Werner’s grim satisfaction in Houston’s ignorance 
of the fate that awaited him. 

Werner, as I say, was in excellent spirits, and 
indulged his prisoner. He invited me to go down 
with him to the ruins which stood in a grass-grown 
space between ledges of boulders. Somehow I had ex- 
pected to find more of a building than this scattered 


172 


The Big Fish 

heap of rocks. It had been of massive design once, 
as it was possible to determine from the site and 
the size of the stones, but under the wear of many 
corroding centuries had become merely a graveyard. 
To add to this impression, mounds rose all about 
the ruins, as it were the tumuli of the dead Incas. 
Yet I remembered that this was reputed to be of 
earlier origin than the Incas. Who were these 
ancient and forgotten Chimus, whose civilization had 
gone into the dust there thousands of years before, 
but who had practised arts and sciences in the era 
of the early Egyptian dynasties? Was this indeed 
one of their temples to unknown gods? 

“ That priest of yours does n’t worship much here, 
I guess,” said Werner’s slow voice, breaking in on 
these speculations. 

The priest of Raymond’s message I had always 
taken as an adjunct to the “ temple,” but now my 
mind, long adrift from such considerations, faced 
the idea. There would and could be no priest in this 
place. I said as much to Werner. 

“ That ’s not Houston’s idea,” he said, looking 
down the valley in the twilight. 66 Man, you ’re 
not fit for a rough-house tackle of this sort,” he 
added, laughing. “ 1 ’m brewing up against Hous- 
ton, and he don’t know it.” He guffawed. “ But 
he ’s doing my business down the valley.” 

“ I don’t understand,” I said. “ I don’t want, 
as a matter of fact, to understand unless it bears 
on — ” 

“ The head in a charger. I take your point,” he 
interrupted. “ Most people I know would n’t have 


The Two Camps 173 

sized you up, Poindexter. That tale would n’t have 
held water. But I know a bit more. You can go 
ahead, anyway ; and I ’ll tell you. Down below 
there is an Indian village, and that ’s why Houston ’s 
pitched there. He ’s quite smart. He smelled the 
priest in the village, and he ’s going to find him and 
nobble him.” 

“And you?” I asked, astonished at his coolness 
again. 

“ By the Lord, can’t I crack Houston, like a 
flea? ” He snapped his fingers contemptuously. 
“ It only adds to the fun of the game that he 
should be doing my work down there.” 

He moved away as he spoke to go upward to 
the camp, but I did not respond. 

“ All right, sonny,” he said, with his rich laugh, 
“ I ’ve told you to go ahead. I ’ve squeezed you dry, 
and you can roll off.” 

The darkness swallowed him. Contemptuously I 
was given my liberty. I breathed free of the air, 
and after the sound of his feet had gone, I walked 
around the starlit ruins, inspecting, pondering. 

A red fury against Houston was growing within me. 
I looked down, as Werner had done, and I thought 
I could see the fires of his camp. Swiftly, on an 
impulse which was almost that of an enraged animal, 
I wheeled around, and began to clatter down the 
rocky way toward the lower parts of the gorge. 

As I progressed, I found the natural phenomena 
grow more gracious. The stony valley merged into 
an ampler stretch of valley clothed with grass and 
shrub, from which the environing hills retired. It 


174 


The Big Fish 

was evidently one of the oases of that mountain 
wilderness which we had reached. As I drew near 
the camp-fires of Houston’s party, I was conscious 
of another than myself, and I drew into the shadows 
in the fear that I might be seen and recognized by 
one of that unscrupulous company. But no sooner 
had I done so than the figure I had seen slouched 
past me, and I seemed to recognize it as one of 
Werner’s party. It was thus, then, that he kept 
watch, while his enemy and mine slumbered all un- 
awares in the apparent security of his camp. 

I turned my steps farther down and circumvented 
the camp, and then I became aware of another 
shadow. It was Houston ! 

If I had been armed with the revolver which they 
had taken from me, I could have shot him in his 
tracks. I followed, with a deepening malice, at an 
even distance, keeping him before me in the starlight. 
He picked his way downward as though he were 
familiar with it, and presently came out upon a flat 
where a mountain torrent roared, and where the 
uncertain light showed the outlines of several build- 
ings. I guessed that this must be a native village in 
those wilds, and I began to have an inkling of what 
Houston wanted. He entered one of the huts, and 
disappeared from my view; and I sat without in 
the cold, clear night, awaiting him. It must have 
been quite an hour ere he appeared again, and he 
went upward as if he had finished his errand. I pur- 
sued him. 

We had not gone more than a few hundred yards 
in this way, and had come to the bed of a stream, 


The Two Camps 175 

when of a sudden he saw me. I had become careless 
through security, and, moreover, I had not reckoned 
on the silhouette which my figure would present 
against the empty sky. He turned, saw me, and 
ran forward toward me, crying out something in an 
unknown tongue. Unarmed as I was, I fled with all 
the speed of my feet into the brushwood, and scram- 
bled up the side of the hill. A stone detached by 
my ascent acquainted him with the direction I had 
taken, and I heard the bushes part as he crept 
toward me. As noiselessly as I could I moved side- 
ways along the declivity, from bush to bush, taking 
care to disturb no more stones. At this moment I 
had only room for one congratulatory thought, that 
he had not known me for what I was, but had sup- 
posed me one of the Indians. 

The stars gave me a certain light for guidance, 
and I was not now afraid of being overtaken. It 
was unlikely that Houston would pursue a mere 
inquisitive Indian very far. That I was right in 
my conjecture was demonstrated by the silence which 
soon fell upon the scrub. I waited for a time before 
resuming my way, and when I did I moved rapidly 
up hill in the direction in which I calculated that 
the ruins of Astarnok lay. But a score of little 
tributary gorges added to the volume of the greater 
valley, and I soon came to the conclusion that I 
was ascending the wrong ravine. With a mental re- 
view of the topography, I made out that I must cross 
the spur on my right to reach the valley I wanted. 
When I had surmounted the ridge, I was pleased to 
think my conjecture had been right, for away south- 


176 


The Big Fish 


ward, but weakly conspicuous as a star, was a spot 
of light which I assumed was one of Werner’s camp- 
fires. I crossed the ravine slanting upward, but after 
I had been walking for an hour I was forced to the 
conclusion that I had been mistaken. The light 
glowed still in the distance, but seemingly as remote 
as ever. I stared, wondering. It was higher up, 
between two peaks of the Sierras, and burned white 
and still. Could it possibly be a star, I asked myself ; 
and into my head flashed the thought of Cassilis. 
I could not say why I associated him with it. It 
was preposterous. Yet he was so constantly in 
my thoughts that it did not seem strange. I had 
a curious fancy that the light was drawing me on- 
ward, and that it would guide me to Cassilis, seated 
by his fire, hailing me with his cheerful, well-remem- 
bered voice — “ Hulloa, Jack ! ” — Cassilis, whose 
maimed and broken body I had seen go over the 
precipice in the mountain torrent. 

At the head of the valley I came to a pause. The 
cold of the night wind blowing from the snow-clad 
Cordillera, was intense, but I was warm from my 
exercise. I did not know how long I had been wander- 
ing, but I judged that the night was far spent. 
After a rest, I made my way along the moraine 
which joined these lesser gorges under the shadow 
of the greater peaks, and so descended one which I 
thought I recognized as that which held our camp. 
I proved mistaken once more, however, and so the 
dawn was near at hand before I actually reached 
the ruins of the Chimu temple. 

As I approached, worn out now with my nocturnal 


177 


The Two Camps 

travels, I saw a figure moving solitary in front of 
me, a figure lean and tall, with the walk of an Indian, 
and supposing it to be one of Werner’s men, I was 
on the point of hailing it. Then I refrained, for 
I remembered that Houston’s camp was not far, and 
that this might be a spy from below. But the man 
appeared to make no attempts to hide; he went 
straight forward upon his way through scrub and 
rock, until he disappeared within the ruins of the 
temple. I followed with caution, and found myself 
behind a broken wall of stones. The Indian was 
visible now in the center of the ruins, and was motion- 
less there as if he had been a statue. I gazed for 
several minutes, and he did not move, and the sky 
grew perceptibly lighter. I could see him quite 
plainly now, standing in the middle of the tumuli, 
and I could even make out his features. What struck 
me was the strange head-dress he wore, which seemed 
to hang down his back for some distance. 

The light grew, and then, just as I was wearying 
of my position and my curiosity, the man stooped, 
went upon his knees, and, bowing his head to the 
earth, remained thus for some minutes. I watched 
in silence, and then suddenly a light away across the 
shoulder of the Sierra drew my eyes. I turned, and 
there was the dawn. In a flash I knew. The Indian 
had been making his obeisance to the sun. Here was 
one of the ancient sun-worshipers. 


CHAPTER XII 


THE RUINS AT ASTARNOK 

H OUSTON came up the valley about ten o’clock 
that morning. I was roused from a deep sleep 
by Werner, and saw his grim features asinine in a 
grin before me. 

“ Like to see the fun? ” he inquired. 

When I had grasped the situation, I scrambled to 
my feet, and while I made my preparations, learned 
that Werner’s spies had brought him word of Hous- 
ton’s movements. 

“ Where did you get to last night ? ” he asked, re- 
garding me quizzically. “ Lucky you had n’t a pis- 
tol, eh? ” 

I stared, and then I began to understand. Wer- 
ner’s spies had knowledge of more than I had sus- 
pected; they must have been on Houston’s track 
when he visited the Indian village, and on mine also. 

It seemed that Werner had a dramatic surprise 
in contemplation, for he took no one with him but 
me, and he waited behind a portion of the temple 
ruins in a mood of anticipatory gusto. I must say 
that the first sight of Houston by day thrilled me; 
I could understand now those primitive instincts of 
hate, revenge, and blind passion which lie at the 


179 


The Ruins at Astarnok 

roots of poor human nature. Werner had said it 
was lucky that I had no gun, and I wondered at 
the adjective. When Houston entered through a 
breach in the stonework, debonair, watchful, and 
resolute, I felt that I moved. Werner’s hand was 
upon my arm the next moment, and it was like bands 
of iron in its grip. My glance swept him with its 
angry survey, and I saw his face, massive, set, stolid, 
yet with some bubbling undercurrent in it. He sug- 
gested some one waiting until the quarry was within 
reach. Houston inspected the temple, and made a 
circuit of it within the broken walls. The tumuli 
drew his eyes, and in his preoccupation he came 
toward us, his light eyes flickering, yet giving him 
a certain human air. It was at this moment that 
Werner chose to spring his surprise. 

“ Say, Houston ! ” 

The man looked up at Werner, where he had 
shown himself beyond the stonework, and though 
this must have been an amazing encounter for him, 
he did not change face. Werner, I am sure, in such 
a case, would have displayed some emotion, if only 
that of anger and ferocity. But Houston stared, 
and then showed his white teeth above his beard in 
a smile. 

“That you, Werner? This is luck!” he said 
easily. 

“ I ’m glad you find it so,” said Werner heavily ; 
and here I came into view. 

Now in Houston’s eyes I was dead and done for, 
but his smile wavered only for a moment, and was 
caught again as his eyes met mine. 


180 


The Big Fish 

44 You, too, Poindexter! ” he said. 44 This is more 
interesting than ever.” 

He could not, however, keep something out of 
his throat, something that cracked. He must have 
guessed then at the explanation of Werner’s pres- 
ence, and he must have known that the secret was 
no longer his alone. 

“ I ’m glad to see you about,” went on Werner, 
seating his square body on the wall. 44 It ’s saved us 
a trip, maybe, down to your camp.” He turned 
loosely a hand which held a revolver. “ There are 
many ways of settling with you, Houston, and I ’ve 
not made up my mind yet. After all, it might save 
trouble if I were to shoot you out of hand now, 
though I ’ll admit I ’ve thought of other things when 
I was kind of lonesome and needed cheering.” 

Houston looked at his nails, a trick I remembered. 

“ You are at liberty to act as you decide,” he 
said easily. 44 But I don’t fancy you ’ll go in for 
melodrama, at least yet.” 

44 The Court is always anxious to listen to any- 
thing the condemned prisoner may have to say in 
his defence,” said Werner, who was enjoying himself. 
44 Go ahead, Houston. Any mitigating circum- 
stances ? Any orphan children ? ” 

He leaned toward me and added: 44 For your pri- 
vate delectation, Poindexter, I may remark that 
Houston is the man who killed his father and mother, 
and then appealed to the judge for mercy on the 
ground that he was a poor orphan.” 

Werner grinned at his own wit, and with the 
weapon in extreme evidence, eyed his victim. 


The Ruins at Astarnok 181 

“ The wilderness tells no tales, Houston,” he said, 
“ and Poindexter won’t, I guess. He ’s after you 
himself.” 

44 What you say about the wilderness strikes me,” 
said Houston, faintly smiling. 44 It hides all ; it ’s 
difficult to find anything in the wilderness, anyway, 
and more specially if one takes the trouble to con- 
ceal it.” 

44 Cassilis — ! ” I said, and the word was a snarl 
on my lips. I could utter no more. I choked. 

Houston’s glance was penetrative, swiftly precau- 
tionary ; it summed up my unarmed state. He 
changed his countenance not a jot or tittle. 

44 You see, Werner, you can’t afford to lose me,” 
he said softly, 44 for I hold the priest.” 

44 The priest ! ” Werner was clearly taken aback, 
and his face grew ugly. 

44 You are doubtless familiar, through our mutual 
friend there, with the fact that the priest here has 
the secret of the Big Fish. Well, the priest ’s in 
my keeping.” 

As the man’s cool face, expressing no triumph, 
was presented to us, I wondered how far he spoke 
the truth, this unscrupulous liar! 

There was something savage, something primeval 
in the ferocity of Werner’s face, as he made reply. 

44 Anyway, I hold you, and you ’re not likely to 
forget it.” 

44 Then, my dear fellow, we ’re all satisfied,” said 
Houston lightly. 

He began to hum an air, and proceeded with his 
investigations, Werner eyeing him with the medi- 


182 


The Big Fish 


tation and potential fury of a bull waiting to charge. 
I don’t think he had looked for this ; he had expected 
triumph all along the line, and he did not like the 
counter. Yet Houston had placed him in a pre- 
dicament, if what he said was true. Werner could 
do nothing without the priest, and he was aware 
of it. The situation was rendered more bitter by 
the fact that he could not be sure if Houston was 
lying. So the scoundrel held Werner in a cleft stick, 
whether he held the priest or not. 

Houston strolled off presently, when his inspection 
was over, and Werner with an oath returned to his 
camp. That he was in a black temper was demon- 
strated by his attitude to his men. Ruffians and 
desperados as I had reason to believe these, they 
were evidently cowed by a superior force such as 
was concentrated in Werner. He gave orders which 
sent half a dozen men packing, including his partners. 
Meanwhile a notion had dawned upon me. 

Werner’s plans embraced a ransacking of the 
Indian village. One of his Indians spoke the lingo 
of these tribes, and he was utilized as the Chief 
Inquisitor. 

The Indians, who differed somewhat in physiog- 
nomy from the Cholo to whom I had grown accus- 
tomed, were a quiet, peaceable folk, living on the 
borders of starvation. 

There were llamas and other animals down the 
valleys, and they cultivated coffee and corn, remain- 
ing self-sufficing in their primitive isolation. They 
were amenable to the overtures of Werner’s spokes- 
man, but showed no friendliness. Indeed, it was 


The Ruins at Astarnok 183 

possible to detect in their attitude at times a ret- 
icence, a shyness, and a distrust. White folk came 
their way but rarely, and in general these must have 
been rude prospectors, and pioneers without con- 
sideration for the indigenous inhabitants of these 
inhospitable regions. I had by chance the oppor- 
tunity of examining one, an intelligent fellow of some 
authority; for I was present when he was inter- 
rogated, and I added my questions through the in- 
terpreter. The stereotyped question had met with 
the one answer. 

44 Where is the priest ? 99 

44 There was no priest. There was Zaga.” 

44 Where then was Zaga ? 99 

A look of suspicion passed over the troubled face. 

44 He was gone.” 

That had been the invariable answer, while 
Werner’s face grew blacker. 

44 Where was he gone ? 99 

The man knew nothing. He had gone on the 
previous night, and had never returned. No one 
knew where he was. Then came my question, which 
arose out of the notion I had taken, as I have told 
you. 

44 Ask him what time the man disappeared. Was 
it at night? 99 

The interpreter obtained assent. 

44 At what hour? 99 

The priest, it appeared, had left his house after 
midnight, and had never returned. 

44 Ask him which house is the priest’s ? ” 

44 Oh, fudge, Poindexter, we know all that, and 


184 The Big Fish 

that Houston interviewed the man last night,” in- 
terrupted Werner impatiently. 

Well, it was no business of mine if he failed to 
find the priest; only Houston interested me. So I 
said nothing of what I had seen that dawn, of the 
impassive Indian waiting in the precincts of the 
temple, of the bowed head of the sun-worshiper. 
The priest, Zaga, had been at liberty then, I could 
swear. It was just possible that he had fallen into 
Houston’s hands since, but I doubted it. 

Werner also was in doubt, though he knew nothing 
of the visitant. I don’t think he believed Houston, 
or, at any rate, he remained in a condition of mental 
suspense. He operated on the supposition that 
Houston might be telling the truth. Yet if he had 
been convinced of this, I am sure that the man would 
have recalled the methods of Torquemada of which 
he had grimly reminded me. He said nothing to 
me, but I came to the conclusion that he had decided 
to let Houston believe he was believed, and to keep 
watch. If the priest were at large, having taken 
alarm, or for any other reason was hiding himself, 
it would be better to have an extra pair of eyes 
to search with; and in any case, Werner could 
reflect that Houston could do nothing without his 
knowledge. So it came about that while engaged 
in waiting on events, Werner turned his attention 
to the tumuli in the shell of the temple. 

He began to excavate, I don’t know with what 
hope or expectations; it might have been merely to 
mark time. But at least he had an interested spec- 
tator in myself. Somehow this relic of a long 


185 


The Ruins at Astarnok 

perished civilization seized on my imagination, even, 
if I may put it so, on my pity. It seemed so far 
away, so distant and alien from the modern way 
of men. It was a place of sepulture, as was soon 
evident; and, grave by grave, the remains of that 
lost race came easily to the light. They came in 
the form of shards and vessels, offering strange evi- 
dence of the high artistic tastes of the vanished 
Chimus, who had sunk, perchance, beneath the on- 
slaughts of their successors, the Incas. Yet truly 
the Incas were in a less civilized condition, and 
nearer barbarism. Ten thousand years might have 
lapsed since these pots and vessels were buried in 
the sepulchres of their former owners. As I watched 
them dug up, I was awed. The pottery was in 
various colors, and elaborately painted and modeled. 
No trace of lettering, however, appeared on the 
pieces. The most were in the form of water-vessels 
with hollow handles. Some were purely painted ves- 
sels, others were grotesques in bas-relief. The Chimu 
heads modeled on this pottery were of a bold Coptic 
cast, and seemed to claim kinship with those early 
Egyptians whose dynasties were probably contem- 
poraneous with the prime of Chimu civilization. 

All these uncovered treasures would have been dear 
to the eager heart of the antiquarian, but to Werner 
and his kind they were as the broken bottles of a 
picnic party. He was after treasure of another sort, 
and grimly resolved on getting it. 

Between the ,t wo camps brooded an atmosphere 
that one felt was ominous; it was that of the close 
calm preceding the thunder-storm. I am bound to say 


186 


The Big Fish 

that Houston exhibited no sign of disturbance. He 
was as elegant and civil in his behavior as hereto- 
fore, a polished scoundrel with blackness in his ugly 
heart. 

And I, too, remained in a condition of neutrality, 
brooded over also by a somber emotion, until that 
happened which I am now to relate. 

You will recall that I had my suspicions, that I 
had formed a theory, and that I held my tongue. 
What part or lot had I in the quarrels and affairs 
of these ruffians, that I should assist either with 
my advice? Because I wanted vengeance on Hous- 
ton was no reason to help Werner to the treasure, 
unless by this means alone I could exact what I 
wanted. So thinking I knew more than either, I 
was silent, and watched. 

On the third night I rambled on the Sierra again, 
crossed a valley of rocks, and was brought up by 
the gleam of a distant light. It shone like that 
flame I had noticed before, and hailed me like a 
beacon. What was it in that air, perhaps, on those 
lofty altitudes, that seized on me and urged me 
forward? Looking back on the incidents I cannot 
understand ; I can only record. That speck of light 
invited me, drew me. I set out to find it. 

The night was sharp, with a still cold, and rich 
with a plenitude of fine stars. If I have been able 
to suggest to you anything of the nature of that 
country, you will picture the road over which I went, 
stumbling and blind to the plain sense of my position. 
What sort of fool was I, in pursuit of this phantom, 
this will-o’-the-wisp? Ah, well, deep down in my 


The Ruins at Astarnok 187 

heart, hardly recognized or acknowledged, but still 
living, was a hope. If I was alive for anything, I 
was alive then for justice, and yet not for justice, 
but for vengeance, which is God’s. Cassilis was 
always in my thoughts, a dear companion, a trusted 
friend, a helpless victim. That flicker of light repre- 
sented to me something which I could not have in- 
terpreted at the time. In that unmerciful wilderness 
it heralded hope and yielded comfort. I stumbled 
on toward it. 

To write the story of one journey across such 
land is to write the history of all that are uneventful. 
Mine went without disaster; it was mere physical 
weariness that gained possession of me. And yet, I 
was held up by that brisk hope of which I have 
spoken. I do not know how long it took me to sur- 
mount the shoulder of the mountain whence I imag- 
ined the light to issue. It may have been several 
hours. And, to my cold, blank despair, when I 
reached the summit, there was nothing — no light, 
no appearance or semblance of any. I stood wonder- 
ing and meditating. Tired as I was, I had been sus- 
tained by a thought. Now I began to feel lassitude 
steal through my limbs. I had followed a mirage. 
What I had taken to be a beacon of welcome and 
consolation had turned out to be darkness. There 
was a supreme silence about the peak which I had 
climbed. Stars filled heaven, as I have said, and 
winked at me solemnly. It seemed a mockery. It 
was not for that pale, uncomforting light that I had 
struggled so far. I could have shaken my fist at 
the blank sky. I was ill. I was burning now with 


188 


The Big Fish 

a fever, and I dimly recognized it, without minding. 
And at last I did raise my arms, and waved them in 
defiance. I shouted my passionate protest to the 
stars. And then I was aware of something that 
stole out and moved toward me, and I turned, and 
I knew it was a woman. 

It was then that I fell, fell toward her, not know- 
ing what I said, but calling on her and seizing her 
hands, and kissing them, and kissing the skirt against 
which my head rested ere it reached the earth. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE PRIEST 

I HAVE fainted but twice in my life, and this was 
the first time; nor do I know how one is wont to 
come back out of unconsciousness. It is odd, per- 
haps, that I should have come back as I did out 
of that first swoon, not with the oppression of sick- 
ness and sadness of spirit, but rather as one comes 
down a pleasant vista from invisible and pleasant 
delights, from some golden palace of dreams. I 
came back, I say, wrapped in this beautiful atmos- 
phere, and was not aware that my head was burning 
and my tongue parched. A light was in my eyes, and 
lo, it was the light of a camp-fire. 

Turning my head, I saw a woman’s figure by me, 
and I rose on an elbow. 

“Are you better?” It was Miss Varley’s voice, 
soft and clear as always. 

“ Yes ; I must have gone off,” I said, struggling 
to sit up. “ Excuse me. There ’s the fire.” 

She realized what my abrupt and bewildered ex- 
clamation meant, I think, for she answered: 

“Yes, we didn’t know who it was approaching; 
so we blanketed it. We have to be very careful.” 

“ Yes, yes,” I nodded. “ Take all the care possible. 


190 The Big Fish 

There is a pack of ravening thieves — how did you 
escape? ” I asked. 

“ Manuel found me,” she replied. 

“ I thought so.” 

“ He is an adept at tracking, and also — at other 
things. We got off quite easily. They ’re a poor 
sort of ruffian,” she ended contemptuously. 

“ I don’t know.” I shook my head. “ I ’ve seen 
something of them. Poor! Yes, some; but Werner 
is not. Werner rather frightens me — sometimes.” 

I thought she was looking at me curiously. 

44 Frightens you — ! ” But she broke off. “ You 
must not engage yourself too much. I have given 
you brandy. I hope that was right.” 

“ Quite ! ” I replied. “ I feel ashamed of myself. 
A touch of fever, and a little over-fatigue, and I 
go down like a child.” 

What was ringing in my ears as it were the 
voice of some one not myself? What were those 
things I had called out, cried out, as I fell at her 
feet? I was troubled, but her face, grave and 
thoughtful and so beautiful, was in the full flame- 
light of the fire. She was still the queen of those 
snow-mountains, though a gracious queen. 

“ I fancy you must have gone through more than 
you realize,” she said. “ Your strength has been 
overtaxed. But I am glad you have made your 
escape also.” 

“ Escape ! ” I echoed, and realized then that she 
knew nothing of the motives which had actuated 
me, nor of my present relation to Werner. “ I have 
not escaped,” I said. 


The Priest 191 

There was a subtle change in her eyes. “ You 
have joined forces with that man for the dis- 
covery of the treasure he spoke of? ” she said 
coldly. 

“No; I am partner with no man,” I told her. 
“ I have a mission of my own.” 

“ I ’m afraid I only gathered parts of the story,” 
she said, in the same low, cold voice. “ I gathered 
that you were all on the same errand. You prefer 
then to work by yourself with your friend? ” 

“ My friend ! ” I cried, and stopped suddenly. I 
had a difficulty in controlling and ordering my voice. 
“ My mission has to do with that friend. Cassilis 
is dead ! ” 

A cry that was like a little moan sounded some- 
where close in the night. Miss Varley’s face was 
startled into emotion. 

“ Dead ! ” she repeated. 

“ He was killed by Houston’s orders,” I explained, 
in a voice dry and hard, which I did not recognize 
as my own. 

“ He wanted to get rid of both of you,” she said, 
and was silent. 

Somewhere I seemed to hear a sound of sobbing. 

“ That is why I am with Werner,” I said. “ You 
can guess my mission.” 

“ I don’t know,” she said sadly. “ Perhaps you 
are wrong. You remember the old text.” 

“ Yes,” I answered, “ but God works by instru- 
ments, and I am one.” 

“ I wonder.” She stood looking into the fire ; 
and after a long silence she said gently : “ Will you 


192 


The Big Fish 


tell me how you came to be mixed up with Hous- 
ton? It has puzzled me. If you would rather 
not — 55 

“ I will tell you everything,” I said. “ It all be- 
gan in an auction room, where I bought a lacquered 
box.” 

“ A lacquered box ! ” she repeated in astonishment. 

And from that point, I entered into the story, 
and I told her what has been set down in these pages, 
of Houston, of the gang which he had betrayed, of 
Werner’s tale of Raymond — I gave her a succinct 
narrative, to which she listened in silence, but with 
evident interest. At the close, she stirred. 

“ And you have lost your friend,” she said, with 
that new gentleness. “ Do you think it was worth 
it?” 

“ Not all the treasure in the world can bring back 
one loyal heart, nor is worth consideration in the 
balance,” I said sadly. “ But how did we know? 
Man ’s like that. He has no vision. Seers and 
prophets of old may have had. All we can hope to 
do now is to snatch a glimpse of to-morrow. We 
started on a stirring adventure, Dick Cassilis and 
I; and he has perished. It is a man’s life and a 
man’s death. But that he perished as he did is 
sacred in my memory, and only one thing can satisfy 
justice.” 

66 How did he die ? ” she asked, lowering her voice. 

66 No ; no,” I said. “ I can’t tell you.” 

She shuddered. “ I wish I could persuade you not 
to go back,” she said presently. “ At least you 
must wait here and recover.” 


The Priest 193 

I struggled to my feet at this unconscious re- 
minder. 

“No; it is impossible,” I said. “If I stayed, I 
should embarrass you. Werner would be certain 
to look for me, and you would be discovered. You 
must not run risks. These people are bashi-bazouks, 
ruffians without scruple. They will let nothing stand 
in their way. I must go back to-night.” 

“ It is impossible — with your fever,” she pro- 
tested. 

“ I am better ; I am rested. I must go back now.” 

After a moment’s hesitation, in which she ap- 
peared to weigh the situation, she spoke. 

“ Then you must take Manuel and mules. You ’re 
not fit to walk.” 

To this course I assented, and Miss Varley went 
away to give the necessary instructions. I had for- 
gotten the invisible voice that moaned and sobbed, 
but now a recognition of it was forced upon me. 
There came out of the darkness Mrs. Chester, her 
hair tumbled about her pretty head. 

“ You are right to wait for vengeance,” she said 
brokenly. “ Take vengeance also for me.” 

I held her hand, and I promised. “ God do so 
to me, and more also — ” 

“I — I — oh, I can’t believe he is dead,” she 
burst forth, and broke from me, weeping. 

Miss Varley joined me. “ Poor Freda! ” she said. 
“ You see the heart of a woman, Mr. Poindexter.” 

“ I take off my hat on that holy ground,” I re- 
plied reverently. 

“ Tell me how you found us,” she asked presently. 


194 The Big Fish 

“ There are so many things I could ask you ; but 
you must go.” 

“ It was the desire of the moth for the star,” I 
said softly. “ I was called across the mountain by 
your watch-fires.” 

“ I don’t understand — quite,” she said. 

“ I saw your fire once before, and I tried to get to 
it, but lost it. This night I found it again, and I 
climbed up to it.” 

“ But why? ” she asked, with a curious expression 
on her face. 

“ I don’t know. I had some feeling about it. I 
have been so long wandering in these regions that 
I think I unconsciously attached some meaning to it. 
It stood for something to me — something I did 
not quite frame in my thoughts. It was a beacon 
calling to me. I put it that way.” 

“ It is strange,” she said gently, and held out her 
hand. “ I hope you will find it a beacon, if you are 
in trouble. I don’t like your going back to those 
men. But remember, there is the light. Yes, I ’m 
glad you looked upon it that way.” 

“ And you? ” I asked. “ Are you going down to 
the coast? ” 

There was a moment’s pause ere she answered. 

“ I don’t know. There is the Montana over there, 
full of forests and verdure. Perhaps we shall go 
by the upper waters of the Amazon, and go 
home.” 

“ Home ! ” I echoed the word. 

“ Remember the beacon,” she said, as I passed 
from her, for Manuel was waiting with the mules. 


The Priest 195 

“ I will remember,” I called back, as the dark 
swallowed me up. 

When I parted from Manuel, I was within a mile 
or so of Werner’s camp, and the night was loosening. 
Reinvigorated by my rest, and by the refreshment of 
that pleasant interview, I made haste down the empty 
gorge, and surmounted the hill on which the ruins 
of Astarnok were situated. 

You know that odd feeling that comes over one 
sometimes, that what is happening has happened be- 
fore. Rossetti expressed it in those fine lines which 
begin, “ I have been here before.” They jumped to 
my memory as I walked in the dissolving darkness 
amid the ugly scrub, and with bitter irony I made 
the contrast. 

“ I have been here before. 

But when or how I cannot tell: 

I know the grass beyond the door. 

The sweet keen smell. 

The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.” 

My thoughts ran on in advance to the next verse, 
66 You have been mine before,” and paused to tremble 
with a certain exultation and fear. And then in an 
instant, I was aware of where I was, and I knew 
what had stirred that secret spring. Ahead of me, 
in the faint light, stalked another figure, as it had 
stalked before. It was the Indian priest. 

I followed soundlessly, and the man moved for- 
ward in stately dignity and aloofness. I wondered 
what he was doing there, so near to danger. I had 
guessed that Houston lied when he spoke of having 
his hands on the man. It was now clear to me that 


196 The Big Fish 

he had endeavored to obtain from the Indian the 
secret to which Raymond had referred, had failed, 
and that the man had fled in alarm, and was in 
hiding. Yet, if so, what did he here, exposing him- 
self rashly? 

I knew that we must be near the ruins now, and 
it seemed that the man was walking into a certain 
trap. But he kept on, a commanding figure, now 
seen in the better light as a man of evident age. 
He went forward as though he were on a sacred 
mission, and barely halted when he reached the table- 
land on which the ruins lay, with the tumuli about 
them. Werner would certainly have set a guard 
on the excavations, and the Indian was inviting his 
capture. I watched from among the scrub, and I 
saw him pass across the open space in the twilight, 
and enter the precincts of the ruined temple. As 
yet, there was no sign of Werner’s sentry, and it 
came upon me that he was probably some distance 
away, for the Chimu mounds stretched over a goodly 
space of ground. But, as I reached the verge of my 
“ cover,” I thought I discerned a second moving 
figure, and this I set down as Werner’s sentinel. 
It was plain that he, too, was watching the Indian, 
who was now visible within the space bounded by the 
dilapidated walls. The priest it was who drew my 
eyes, rather than the sentinel. 

The Indian had advanced to the center of the ruins, 
and, as I had seen him before, he stood silent, motion- 
less. He was waiting for the first beams of the sun. 
In sympathy with him, I turned, and looked eastward 
across the vast mountain, and my eye was caught by 


197 


The Priest 

an outstanding peak. It was there, I calculated, that 
Miss Varley’s camp was pitched, from which I had 
come that dawn. A certain tremulous motion stir- 
ring in the heart ran through me. My eyes came 
about; the Indian had fallen to his knees. Sud- 
denly, by the peak, streamed a long shaft of light. 
Was it Miss Varley’s fire? I started. No; that 
was impossible. Yet the light arose from the very 
place I had identified with her camp. It flowed 
whitely, palely down the mountain, and struck the 
ruined temple, illuminating the kneeling figure of the 
Indian, who had bowed his head in worship. The 
other man was watching, like myself, from the sur- 
rounding scrub, but I could no longer see him. 

Next, I observed that the Indian, still on his 
knees, was scraping in the ground where he crouched, 
and, as I watched, he scooped out a hole, and in- 
serted a hand. Something was in the hand he brought 
forth, and he rose to his feet with this object. 

The solution rushed into my mind; he had un- 
earthed something he had buried, and that was the 
secret to which Raymond had referred, and which 
both Houston and Werner were seeking. 

I made a few steps forward, and then stopped 
abruptly : for, out of the scrub, on the farther side, 
darted a man, and as I stared in doubt and wonder, 
he had sprung upon the Indian. The horrid thing 
passed almost in a flash. I saw the two close, the 
mere elements of a struggle, a hand uplifted, a blow, 
and the Indian toppled loosely to the earth. His 
assailant slipped into the shadows of the rock; but I 
had recognized him — I knew him. 


198 


The Big Fish 

I ran forward now, and, crossing through a gap 
into the temple, stooped over the stricken figure of the 
Indian. It was only a moment’s examination, but it 
sufficed. The man had been stabbed through the 
heart, and was as dead as the Chimus in their mounds 
about me. Hardly giving heed to my actions, but 
filled only with a hatred that was bursting bonds 
within me, I ran out of the ruins into the open where 
Houston had fled. If I had sought him, it appeared 
that he sought me, for I found him waiting, poised, 
as he always seemed to be, in expectancy, and, above 
all, ready for me. He drove at me with his knife. 

“ Second chance, Poindexter,” he said, almost un- 
der his breath. 

I slipped aside, and protected myself behind a 
bush. How deeply was I chagrined that no weapon 
had been allowed me! Werner had been afraid of 
my violence; this was his recompense, that I was 
defenceless against the arch-enemy, who was making 
off with the secret for which men had traveled ten 
thousand miles, and had committed murder. 

I waited. Houston was bent on my death, this 
second time, and I knew why. If he had had occasion 
before, he had more occasion now, for, if he left me 
alive, I would warn Werner, and bring his plans to 
naught. He dashed through the shrubbery after me, 
and struck. It was as if a needle took my arm at a 
tangent. I retreated, feeling within my hands a 
growing power that would swell out and choke the 
life out of him. But the time was not ripe. 

He came at me, for he could see the rustling of 
leaves, and could hear the noises of the underwood. 


The Priest 199 

Twice more I eluded him, and each time, in imagina- 
tion, I felt his neck cracking under the pressure of 
my arms. I was sure I could beat him physically. 
His neck was a delicate thing, unlike his monstrous 
mind. The third time he bore me back, into an 
open space. 

“Time, Poindexter!” he said, grinning. “It’s 
up ! ” 

“ The third chance! ” I gasped, with a queer feel- 
ing in my head. 

“ I ’ll finish it sooner,” I seemed to hear him say, 
and I was aware that he had drawn a pistol. I 
heard no sound, but something stung me, as I slipped 
behind a cactus bush. There was a fizz and a dull 
thud, and I knew he was firing with an air-gun. The 
man had the craft of the devil. I made a dart at 
him, and trusted all to the load of my superior 
strength. Something met me half-way, and I had the 
same strange feeling that I had experienced in Miss 
Varley’s camp. 

I have said I fainted twice only in my life. This 
was the second time, and within only a few hours of 
the first. I had been overborne by the physical and 
spiritual trials of the last weeks, and I was sick with 
fever. Yet that swoon was the salvation of my life. I 
came out of it hours later (for the sun was fairly high 
across the saddle), and sat up, stiff and ill at heart. 
I had been struck by one of the bullets, but only 
in the superficial muscles of the neck, and Houston 
had left me for dead. I had bled freely, which had 
probably persuaded him that I was gone. But I am 
sure that the wound was insufficient to account for 


200 


The Big Fish 

my fainting, and that, unless I had succumbed to 
the weakness of my condition, I should have shown 
fight, and perished under his knife. 

I sat up, and gaped at the sun, and all the events 
of the past dawn came back to me. Houston was 
gone, with the secret of the Big Fish. How long 
had I lain there? I got to my feet with some diffi- 
culty, and began to walk toward Werner’s camp. It 
lay some hundreds of yards away at the back of the 
Chimu mounds, and I passed the ruins on the way 
to it. In the middle lay the dead body of the Indian. 
I wondered that it had not been discovered. Where 
was Werner’s sentinel? 

The camp was still in slumber when I reached it, 
and I awoke Werner by stumbling over his tent peg. 
He sat up, and covered me with a revolver. 

“ Give me a weapon,” I said. “ Man, I want my 
weapon back.” 

“ What is it? ” he asked, after he had examined 
my face, and noted the blood on my neck. 

“ Houston ! ” I said. “ Do you call yourself a 
match for him? Man, he’s stolen a march on you 
while you slept. He ’s off with the key you want.” 

“ What in h — do you mean ? ” he asked, rolling 
on to his feet, and surveying me blackly. 

And so I told him. In an instant, the camp was 
alive under his orders. Jeff was sent to the ruins, 
and Miguel made search for the sentry. This poor 
wretch, a Cholo Indian, was found dead, with a bullet 
in him, on the outskirts of the scrub. 

“ There ’s your air-gun,” said Werner grimly. 
“ That ’s how he got in. He ’s got to pay me twice 


201 


The Priest 

over now, by thunder ! ” and a little later, beside the 
body of the hapless priest, he stooped awkwardly, and 
peered into the hole. “ Yes, you ’re on the right lay; 
you ’ve smart wits. I guess I ’ll take you along, 
Poindexter. You shall have your gun. Maddock, 
where ’s that revolver ? ” 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE CONFERENCE 

I HAD begun by this time to take the measure of 
the unscrupulous man with whom I was dealing, 
and I recognized that, in a way, Werner, for all his 
substantial tenacity and sangfroid, was inferior to 
his adversary, by reason of the latter’s better imagi- 
nation. Houston might have no method, but he had 
a vivid mind and a daring, and his latest move had 
embarrassed Werner. Nevertheless, after the first 
outbreak of ferocity, the man displayed no chagrin. 
He issued orders sharply, and seemed never in doubt. 
Jeff had already been despatched in reconnaissance, 
and, though Houston must have had two hours’ start, 
Werner was confident as to the result. 

44 1 ’m king of this wilderness,” he said savagely, 
44 and he ’s got to lick my boots before I have him 
bowstringed.” 

When I came to think of it, there did not seem 
to be much room for an undiscovered force in those 
parts. One way or another, Houston must leave 
tracks, and the Indians of the village would be able 
to give us information. This, indeed, was demon- 
strated at once, for Jeff returned with the news that 
Houston had struck camp more than an hour since, 


The Conference 203 

and had ascended the farther gorge, in an easterly 
direction. Werner’s dispositions being now made, he 
descended with the mule pack to the village, left word 
as to the murder of the priest, and followed after 
the murderer. 

“ I ’ll reap a reward there, maybe,” he said, when 
he had communicated news of the priest’s death. “ I 
guess I may have sown death for Master Houston. 
Anyway, it may tip up the balance.” 

The valley was a green ravine for some miles, and 
it was not difficult to track Houston upward ; but 
toward the upper reaches it deteriorated into a rough 
channel of boulders, and we lost the trail. It was 
probable that he had continued up the valley, but, 
on the other hand, he might have turned off and 
ascended the spurs on either side. Thus Werner 
was compelled to divide his forces, and to send recon- 
noitering parties in no fewer than three directions. 
He himself, with two mestizos and myself for com- 
pany, continued up the valley. When we had selected 
a camp for the night, we sat down to await the 
others, and they dribbled in by sunset, with no news. 

The following day was a rough copy of its pre- 
decessor. As far as our scouts were outflung, no 
sign of Houston was visible. He had vanished as 
completely as if he had been wiped out by a cataclysm 
of nature; in fact, more completely, for in the latter 
case, we should, at least, have had the evidence of 
his bones. 

Werner said little, but his face grew dogged and 
ferocious. It was not the first, nor the second, nor 
even the third time, I conceived, that he had been 


204 


The Big Fish 

outgeneraled by the superior and more facile mind. 
But he had at least this virtue, that he would not 
recognize defeat, and that nothing short of physical 
failure would drive him to give up the quest. Our 
scouts sought Houston far and wide, and my only 
fear was that, in their explorations, they might hap- 
pen upon Miss Varley’s camp, which was gone by this 
time I knew not where. Perhaps, I reflected, with 
melancholy satisfaction, she was already far away, 
descending into the abysmal forests of the Upper 
Amazon. 

On the fourth day, Werner was justified of his 
policy. The death of the priest tipped the balance. 
An Indian came up the valley with information, and 
within three hours Houston’s hiding-place was lea- 
guered. It was situated in a little depression in a 
hillside, invested with bushes, and it might have 
escaped Werner’s notice till the crack of doom. 
Werner approached and challenged, like a mediaeval 
baron. He pushed aside the scrub at the entrance, 
and called on Houston. 

44 I ’ve got you coralled, Houston,” he shouted. 
44 You ’ve not a red cent of a show.” 

There was a tension among us during the silence 
that followed. We were not even sure that the man 
was there, or, being there, whether he would respond. 
But the bushes parted, and the bandit appeared, 
smiling and smoking. 

44 Good day, Werner,” said he lightly. 44 1 had you 
covered, but it was no go. Who ’s that? My ex- 
cellent friend, Jeff, in the background, eh? Yes, 
I ’m done. Step right in, and talk.” 


205 


The Conference 

It seemed for a moment doubtful if Werner would 
accept this suspicious invitation, which recalled the 
fable of the spider and the fly. But he did. 

44 All right. I guess I hold you, Houston,” he 
said. 

I pushed forward in his wake, and Houston’s eyes 
met mine more seriously. 

46 I believe I ’m afraid of you most of all, Poin- 
dexter,” he said. 44 Anyway, come along. Let ’s 
be friendly for the moment.” 

Werner had passed an order to Jeff, his fighting 
lieutenant, ere he entered the scrub, and I followed, 
with my hand in the pocket which contained my re- 
volver. Houston went in front with an unconcern 
which was almost ostentatious, and presently we came 
into a little clearing where the camp was set. It was 
a neat establishment, with a nicely-rigged stable for 
the mules in one corner under a beetling cliff, and 
the tents spread about symmetrically. The encamp- 
ment looked as if it had designed to be permanent, 
and had a patent air of comfort. One or two Indians 
or mestizos idled about, smoking and playing some 
native game of chance. Werner’s eyes bulged out. 

44 Pretty idyllic scene, ain’t it?” said Houston, 
stroking his beard. 44 1 ’d reckoned to be here for a 
week or two longer. But that ’s over. You ’ll have 
a drink. We put up some special whisky, as Poin- 
dexter can tell you.” 

Werner had said nothing so far, but with a grim 
and resolute face had rumbled after the other villain. 

There was no sign of any military precautions in 
the whole place ; it was a camp of ease. I wondered. 


206 


The Big Fish 

Houston bade us sit, and called out to one of his 
men, who presently produced a bottle and tin 
pannikins. 

44 The best of this climate and altitude,” said Hous- 
ton generally, “ is that spirits do you no harm. 
Here ’s how!” 

44 How ! ” said Werner, with his tin mug half-way 
to his mouth. 44 Now, that started from an Injun, 
did n’t it? But it ’s got a different bearing now. It 
may mean a lot of things — how are you going to 
do — how are you going to get out of it — how are 
you likely to die — oh, Houston, there ’s a lot of 
sarcasm or irony or what you call it, in that 4 how ! ’ ” 

44 Possibly ! ” said Houston, at his beard again. 
44 We ’re all the slave of forms of conventions. Any- 
way, to our next merry meeting! Wasn’t there an 
old j ape — 4 when shall we three meet again ? ’ ” 

He looked almost slyly at me as he spoke, and I 
was feeling the Mauser under my hand. 

44 1 guess what ’s there, and I won’t call you,” he 
said, with cynical assurance. 44 Werner, here ’s the 
one man that wants my blood, and I look to you to 
defend me.” 

44 Your next stop ’s Kingdom Come,” said Werner 
savagely. 

Houston looked pained. 44 My dear fellow, this is 
getting quite absurd,” said he. 44 1 ’ve explained to 
you before why it can’t be. You make me tired. If 
you want it again, however, I ’ll have to dot the i’s, 
I reckon. So here begins the tale of a box, which I 
don’t think you have heard before, though doubtless 
Poindexter ’s told you the tale of another. However, 


207 


The Conference 

there are boxes and boxes. Have I your leave to 
proceed? Poindexter, you leave your liquor, excel- 
lent liquor, I believe, selected by yourself.” 

44 Go ahead ! ” said Werner, scowling. 

Houston leaned back, as if he enjoyed the nar- 
ration. 

44 1 confess I ’ve been disappointed about this latest 
development,” he said, with the air of a philosophic 
bystander. 44 1 reckoned on being hidden for a suffi- 
cient time to wear you out. I reckoned without your 
well-known nature, Werner, — it J s dogged as does 
it, you know — and, let us say, chance. Anyway, 
here you are, and I ’m privileged to entertain you.” 

Werner stirred impatiently. 

44 Quit the drawing-room,” he said, 44 and come out 
on the veranda.” 

44 You want my tale? ” said Houston, smiling. 
44 You shall have it. As you have probably been in- 
formed by the excellent but importunate and foolish 
Poindexter, I ran our friend, the aged priest, to 
earth. I was guilty of a slight exaggeration when 
I informed you that I held him. I did not, but I 
had every reason for supposing that I should in 
due course, by the exercise of patience and other 
virtues.” 

The ineffable ruffian smiled at us blandly, as if no 
guilt or taint of blood were on his long, slim hands. 

44 The priest, on the occasion of our first inter- 
view, proved, I regret to say, intractable. The fact 
is, he held extravagant notions as to the value of the 
box in question, from a religious point of view.” 
Houston paused. 44 He knew nothing of it from any 


208 


The Big Fish 

other point of view,” he said gently. “ He refused to 
part with his information and disclose its hiding- 
place, though I assured him I was a legitimate emis- 
sary from Don Ramon, whom he remembered with 
respect. But the fact is, he was a fanatic, and in 
some way the box was associated in his weakened 
intelligence with the Incas, and his ancestors, and 
the worship of his sacred god, otherwise the sun. So 
he beat it.” 

Houston contemplated us now without a smile, but 
placidly. 

“ Well, the box turned out to hold what I wanted. 
I don’t know that there ’s any more to tell.” 

“ You ’re sitting on a keg of dynamite, Houston,” 
said Werner, “ and have n’t the sense to see it.” 

Houston shrugged his shoulders. “ Do you kill 
the goose who lays the golden eggs, or could lay 
them? No. You ’re not a fool, Werner. Who knows 
where the Big Fish is? One man only in this 
blooming sphere, and that ’s me ! Oh, you ’re not 
a fool.” 

“ This box,” said Werner, with heavy signs of ex- 
citement on him, “ did it explain precisely the locality 
where the Fish is ? ” 

“ To a nicety ; Poindexter could n’t trig it better 
himself.” 

What made the callous creature recall that episode 
with his light sneer I do not know ; but I know that 
I rose maddened. It was of no account to me that 
Houston’s secret should die with him. I made a 
rush, but with amazing agility for one of his build, 
Werner thrust himself between, and I broke myself 


The Conference 209 

upon his square, tough frame as it had been upon 
a rock. 

“Steady, fool!” he said. “You’re not fit to 
have a weapon, and more by token there ’s no cart- 
ridge in it.” 

Houston stood where he was, and apparently had 
not turned a hair ; but I saw his hand moving gently 
in his pocket. I fell back chagrined, humiliated. 

“What are you going to do?” asked Werner 
bluntly of him. 

Houston examined his nails. “ It ’s really for you 
to say,” he said modestly. “ I only thought that the 
situation was ripe for a conference.” 

“ You want to make terms? ” said Werner, blowing 
like a porpoise. 

“ Is n’t the boot on the other leg? ” asked Hous- 
ton. “ Or let us say we both would be advantaged 
by a mutual agreement.” 

There was a pause. “ By God, man, who ’d trust 
you? ” burst forth Werner. 

His face was red to purple ; his skin tightened over 
it, and he labored with his breath as though under 
the stress of a huge emotion. Houston was imper- 
turbable and cool. 

“ It is a matter for discussion, surely,” he said. 
“ The resources of civilization, as an eminent man 
once said, are not exhausted.” 

At that word I could have laughed with loud irony. 
Civilization ! The man’s impudence was triumphant. 
As I stared, I developed a grin, a grin which seemed 
to move him also to reciprocity. He laughed gently. 
I could see these two scoundrels united soon in an 


£10 The Big Fish 

unholy alliance, their mutual enmities forgotten, and 
dividing the plunder on the proportionate methods of 
some joint stock company or corporation. It was I 
who spoke now, and the evenness of my voice was a 
surprise to myself. 

“ What this man Houston means is apparent, 
Werner,” I said, 44 and I have no doubt you will be 
ready to discuss it with him. He wants a deal.” 

Both men looked at me, and Houston showed his 
teeth in a familiar grin. 

44 A Daniel come to judgment ! ” he said. 44 That ’s 
on the nail fair and square. Does Poindexter come 
in?” 

Werner paid no heed; it was evident that he was 
deep in thought. 

44 1 also want to come to an understanding with you, 
Werner,” I went on, quietly enough. 44 1 ’ve been 
an appanage to your party so far, of no conse- 
quence. I want you to understand that this can’t 
go on. I want you to understand that I claim this 
man’s life ; it belongs to me. If you contract out of 
the venedetta, you may ; I remain in.” 

Houston was agrin, but Werner’s face was stolid, 
though he had paid me the tribute of attention at 
last. * 

44 What do you reckon you ’re going to do ? ” he 
asked, with some contempt in his voice. 

44 Look upon me as a discontented shareholder,” 
I replied, still keeping my tones quiet and even. 44 1 
give you notice.” 

Werner turned to Houston. 44 Well, what ’s your 
proposition ? ” he asked bluntly. 


211 


The Conference 

66 Speaking in general, a pool on terms to be 
settled,” said Houston. “ The shares to be deter- 
mined by mutual agreement and discussion. Bear in 
mind that I hold the trumps. It ’s in my power to 
turn down the quest this day, and to go back to the 
coast. I only know where the Fish is, and my knowl- 
edge would perish with me. But I confess, I ’d like 
to handle the stuff. I ’ve gone through more than a 
bit for it, and I don’t fancy turning back with the key 
in my hand. That ’s why I ’m willing to come to 
terms. But you must remember these facts in the 
terms.” 

I don’t know if Werner liked this, and I judged 
from his sardonic scowl that he was debating within 
himself, but when he spoke it was decisive. 

“ Very well. I ’m willing to come in on terms, but, 
my son, they must be considerably my terms. And 
I ’ll tell you just why. I could, and may, blow a 
hole in your carcass, but in that case I ’d be merely 
indulging my own personal feelings. I ’m as re- 
luctant to give up as you are, but I think I can 
squeeze you. The fact is, Houston, you ’re under- 
manned, which, when you come to think of it, is a 
poetic justice. If you hadn’t thrown out Poin- 
dexter and Co. you ’d have stood a better chance. 
See for yourself what a fire-eater this Poindexter is.” 

I paid no heed to the sally. Both these men, I 
knew, ignored, contemned me, treated me as negli- 
gible in this wilderness. I cared nothing. What was 
occupying my mind was a parallel. How long ago 
— years, was it? since, seated at a table with the 
same bland smile, cornered and trapped as he was 


212 The Big Fish 

trapped to-day, had Houston made terms with us, 
as he was making terms with Werner, and snatched 
victory out of the jaws of defeat? Was he destined 
to repeat his triumph? I confess I did not see how. 
It was a choice for him now of throwing up all hope 
of the treasure or of accepting Werner’s terms. And 
yet I seemed certain that he would wriggle out at 
the last moment. Surely, Werner, with his frank 
brutality and roughshod ways, was no match for this 
crafty rogue, whom he appeared to have at his 
mercy. The haggling caught my attention, and I 
knew it. 

They had no care that I was present to listen; as 
I have said, I was negligible to them, about of as 
much significance as the surroundings, rocks and 
bushes. Suddenly it grew horribly galling, the 
knowledge that I was so despised. In civilization, 
in the heart of the world, in roaring cities, and under 
conditions in which man was wont mostly to live, I 
should be recognized as more or less an intelligent, 
superior person with education, brains and capacities. 
In the company of these rogues I was a cypher who 
had passed out of the game. The haggling arrested 
me, I say, and I knew as I listened to it that Werner 
was lost. Houston made no fight, or a very poor 
pretence of one. 

“ If you press your advantage too far, you will 
kill the golden goose,” he protested. 

I remembered how he had argued with Cassilis 
and myself in the drawing-room of the bungalow by 
the river. 

" I won’t squeeze the orange quite dry,” said 


The Conference 


213 


Werner, choosing his own figure, 44 but damn me if 
I don’t squeeze it some. If you paid in full, you ’d 
pay all, curse you.” 

44 What am I to pay ? ” inquired the other, with a 
lightness which to me was suspicious. 

44 There are five of us. You shall cut out with a 
twenty-fifth,” said Werner. 

Houston lifted his long hands in elegant protest. 
44 My dear sir, it ’s robbery,” he said in dismay. 

44 It ’s a handsome present,” said Werner, sourly 
agrin. “ If you ’d played straight you would have 
shared, one of five. Now you take four parts in a 
hundred, and leave us the balance.” 

44 It ’s a tidy sum for five honest paupers,” said 
Houston meditatively. 46 But if it ’s not a rude ques- 
tion, what might be the proportion to be allotted to 
yourself, Werner? ” 

44 I guess I ’ll get paid for my services,” grinned 
Werner. 44 I ’m president of this bank.” 

44 It can’t be done, my friend.” Houston shook his 
head. 

How I knew that light tone, and how it roused in 
me a fury, ill-contained. 

Werner contemplated him with the air of one who 
is master and merciful. 44 Damn it, man, as it ’s my 
birthday, I ’ll make it a twentieth. Better agree with 
me while I am in the gate, as they say in the Bible 
somewhere. For I may be feeling different an hour 
hence.” 

Houston shrugged his shoulders. 44 Five points 
out of the hundred ! It ’s flaying a man,” he said. 
44 Well, I accept. Have another drink.” 


214 


The Big Fish 


Werner got upon his legs, a broad, squat, ugly 
figure, like some dangerous and exotic insect of mon- 
strous size. His small eyes were gleaming with ex- 
citement. 

“I’ll drink to the joint account!” he said, with 
a sudden change of tone. “ Here ’s to the Ad- 
venture ! ” 

The two men moved aside and conversed together; 
it seemed as if in that second they had joined forces, 
and were amicable allies. I saw Houston jerk his 
hand upward as if indicating a direction, and 
Werner’s voice, intense and low and raw, rumbled on, 
though I could not hear what he said. Houston 
nodded, and Werner picked his way toward me, for 
I was in the way, toward the exit from the savage 
dingle. For a short distance I was in front of 
Werner, but just as we entered the thickest part of 
the scrub, he drew level with me. 

I started and swung round at the report of a 
gun, and realized that a bullet had glanced off the 
bush near me. Werner turned about also. 

“ What the — ” He paused, and then : “ Better 
get along, Poindexter,” he said, with a grin. “ That 
was meant for you.” 

“ Why not for you? ” I asked, as the bushes closed 
behind us. 

“Why, the man’s not a fool, is he? He knows 
he’ d be eaten up if anything like that happened. I 
hold him all round.” 

“ For me ! ” I echoed. 

“ Yes, I believe he ’s a bit nervous about you. I 
really do.” 


215 


The Conference 

He laughed; and I think I also smiled. For, odd 
as it may seem to you, I was glad — I rejoiced. The 
man did not, then, account me as nothing; he was 
afraid of me. That was balm to my spirit. I ex- 
ulted in the thought. He would have shot me in my 
tracks to get rid of me. And this was the third 
time ! I knew somehow that I was not born to be 
a victim to Houston. I revelled in the fears his 
action had betrayed. 


CHAPTER XV 


AN AMAZING DEVELOPMENT 

ERNER’S attitude toward me was curious. I 



vv think, while he displayed indifference, he felt 
amiable, so far as in him lay. It is certain that he 
was astonished by Houston’s attempt at assassination. 
I do not flatter myself that he would have resisted 
a bargain in which my life was concerned. He would 
have cheerfully handed me over to Houston if it had 
been necessary as a make-weight. I can conceive him 
saying with his cynical grin : “ I ’ll throw Poindexter 
in.” 

But there was no deal in which my name was con- 
cerned. I think, perhaps, that Houston believed he 
had me at his mercy when he wished, and that he 
might as well amuse himself in the meanwhile. I don’t 
know; I never knew. But as I had something still 
to effect in life, it was my duty to take precautions 
for my safety. I was still unarmed, for, as Werner 
had revealed, the cartridges were blank. I immedi- 
ately used the incident in the bushes as a plea for 
the return of my weapon. Werner bluntly refused. 

“ You can keep out of sight,” he said. “ I don’t 
give a damn for what you do afterwards ; but I ’m 
not going to have Houston knocked out just now; 


An Amazing Development 217 

he ’s the cat for the chestnuts. After that he ’s 
yours, or you ’re his — which way you come out 
of it.” 

However, I was to get my ammunition, as you will 
see. 

It was the middle of the afternoon when we found 
Houston, but no move was made during the rest of 
the day. Houston and Werner had a second con^ 
ference, at which I was not present, and I have no 
doubt that they came to some detailed agreement. It 
became understood among the adventurers that we 
were to make a start at daybreak, and in the mean- 
time a careful watch was set. Now Werner’s party 
included several pure-blooded Indians as well as some 
mestizos, and, so far as I had observed, all went in 
fear of their leader. He had only to command to be 
obeyed. The Indians were for the most part simple 
fellows like all their kin in those parts, but among 
the mestizos were some bolder and less scrupulous 
spirits. None of these men were admitted to any 
part in the rewards of the adventure; they were 
paid servants merely, and probably knew nothing of 
the quest on which their masters were embarked. 
English was the language of the white men; the 
others spoke Spanish. 

It was a clear, white night, and very cold, and 
it was the cold that woke me, under my inadequate 
coverings. I got up and walked about to warm my- 
self. A little way off I saw a man’s figure seated, 
and he lifted his head, rose, and came towards me. 
It was Miguel. When he recognized me, he spat and 
turned away with an oath. I stretched myself, and 


218 


The Big Fish 

walked away from the tents and fires. There was 
no law now to keep me in the camp. I was harmless. 

I picked my way among the boulders in the trough 
of the ravine, and, ten minutes later, was alone on 
the mountain-side. Suddenly I saw a tiny spark of 
light, which twinkled and went out. I stared, and 
again it flashed and faded. 

I seemed to know what this was, and I wondered. 
It was for all the world as if a man had been lighting 
a cigarette in the night. Who was there? 

I went forward cautiously, using the rocks as cover, 
until I must have got within fifty yards of the spot 
in which the light had appeared. It was a white 
night, as I have said, but it was impossible to deter- 
mine more than shadows in it. I seemed to see 
shadows of men, crouched in the rocks, but I had 
almost set the thing down to fancy when again a 
match flared, and lighted up the face of Diego, 
Houston’s right-hand and rascally instrument. It 
lighted up another face also, which I recognized on 
the flash as Indian. 

The situation puzzled me, and set my wits work- 
ing. Houston’s camp was carefully guarded and 
watched. How did Diego come here, and what was 
he doing? I withdrew, debating these questions, and 
finding no solution, and, as I drew near the dingle 
which held Houston’s camp, I was tempted to ex- 
plore, despite the risk I should run at those savage 
hands. 

Werner had not entrusted the responsible part of 
the guard to Indians, but had set Maddock in charge 
of the sentries, as I was aware. Yet no sign of 


An Amazing Development 219 

Maddock was to be found, nor was there any evidence 
of the sentries. I pushed my way carefully into the 
scrub, and reached the inner circle where the camp 
had been. It was empty ! 

I scrambled back with a heart beating wildly, for 
I knew my time was come. Werner was only a strong 
fool ; and Houston had cheated him, as he had 
cheated me. I raced down to our camp, and found 
Miguel sitting by the fire. 

“ Where ’s Maddock? ” I asked. 

I understood him to curse me and Maddock also. 
I left him, and went to Werner’s tent. The man 
slept like a hog, and his snoring saluted me. 

44 Give me my cartridges,” I cried, much as I had 
said before. 44 Wake, man! ” and I shook him. 

He sat up, and I was conscious of a pistol be- 
tween us. 

44 Werner, you ’re done brown. You ’re euchred! ” 
I shouted. 46 Houston ’s off. Give me those cart- 
ridges.” 

He stumbled up. 44 What?” he said, and tore 
open the flap of canvas which formed the door of 
the tent. 

44 Houston ’s gone ! ” I said. 

He stalked out. 

44 Where are the cartridges ? ” I shouted. 

44 Behind the holster,” he said, as he went. 

And that was how I got my arms, and became 
once more a man to be considered. 

I ran out after Werner, who was giving orders, and 
I poured out my story. The camp was deserted! 
Houston was gone! But what of Diego? Beating 


220 


The Big Fish 

to quarters gave us an inkling of the case. There 
were absent three mestizos, and Houston’s camp was, 
as I knew, silence. That was the first thing to claim 
Werner’s attention. The two mestizos who had been 
with Maddock had disappeared, as also the one 
Indian. Maddock was discovered in the scrub un- 
conscious, with an ugly knife-wound in his side. I 
guessed at things now, and I was hot for the chase. 

“ You will find the Indian up the valley,” I told 
Werner. “ Come ! If you can wait, I can’t.” 

But I did not do him justice. The preparations 
were already made, and the mule pack was moving 
even as I spoke. We were seven men short, including 
Maddock, who was provided with a litter after his 
wound had been rudely dressed. Seven men short ! 
It was like Houston to strike that unexpected blow. 
Werner’s silence was charged with terror. Up the 
valley I halted by the rocks where I had seen Diego, 
and, as I had imagined, there was the body of the 
Indian, poor, faithful creature, who had refused to 
betray his trust. I knew what had happened. Hous- 
ton had got rid of Maddock, and bought over the 
mestizos. Probably for the first time they had heard 
of the treasure. At any rate, five had deserted us, 
and Houston’s party was now superior in strength. 

Werner moved forward at a terrific rate, for it 
was not difficult to guess in what direction the others 
had fled. The dawn came fast, and surprised us on 
the march. Just then Miguel, who had been sent 
forward to reconnoiter, returned excitedly, and con- 
versed with his associates. I heard Maddock groan- 
ing on the litter. Houston had been located. The 


An Amazing Development 221 

odds were against us, but Werner did not hesitate. 
The last half-mile was covered, and Houston pushed 
his head out of the scrub to look at us. It was 
evidently a surprise to him, but he promptly disap- 
peared, and I heard him shout to his men. Werner 
stood exposed in front of his party, gun in hand, as 
if waiting. Jeff was behind, under the cover of a 
rock. The mestizos could be seen in a knot together, 
and Houston’s voice was evidently urging them, for 
it was sharp and angry. Werner raised his gun. 

66 Come back, you dogs ! ” he shouted like a bull, 
and a mestizo advanced and paused, and sighted 
along his rifle. 

Werner fired, and the man dropped. 66 1 ’ll count 
twenty,” he shouted, “ and if you ’re not back then, 
I ’ll wipe you out. Shoot, Houston ; why the h — 
don’t you shoot?” 

Jeff swore horribly. “ He knows I ’ve got a bead 
on him,” he said. “ If he moves he ’s dead.” 

The mass of Houston’s Indians remained unmoved, 
taking no part in this curious scene, but watching 
with a blank and stolid interest. The affair had 
dwindled down to a question of the mestizos. They 
wavered. Houston’s angry voice was audible, but 
he did not move after Jeff’s threat. Werner’s domi- 
nating bulk and personality, the personality of a 
master whom they knew, and whose wrath they had 
felt, turned the scale, no less than the dead man on 
the ground. In a broken string they shambled away 
from Houston and toward their old leader. Werner’s 
brute courage had triumphed. 

Houston was beaten, but he never showed a sign 


222 


The Big Fish 


of discomfort. In the gray, cold dawn, baffled, 
worsted, and undoubtedly with the fires of hate in 
his heart, he came forward with a grin. 

“ 1 guess you nearly arrived too late, Werner,” 
he said. “ However, it ’s only a quarter of a mile 
farther on. Let ’s get a move on us.” 

His impudence and assurance were superb, and 
even I, with all the reasons I had for loathing this 
man, could not but regard him with some admiration. 
Werner said nothing at the moment, but moved for- 
ward quickly. The sweat rolled down his face, and 
it was wild and blazing. 

“ Get ! ” he said, when he reached Houston, “ and, 
by heaven, you ’ll be in Kingdom Come in three 
seconds if you play false again.” 

“ I had no luck,” said Houston mildly. “ Perhaps, 
after all, the joint account is the better solution.” 

The procession moved almost in silence across the 
hillside, and all eyes were on Houston when he came 
to a pause. He seemed to pass us all in review, as 
if summing us up. 

“ Werner, I have no guarantee after this,” he 
said slowly. “ For all I know, the next steps I take 
seal my fate.” 

His fingers were twitching, for the man was obvi- 
ously earnest, and was obviously also laboring under 
excitement. Werner uttered an oath, for he could 
contain himself less than his enemy. 

“ For all I ’m concerned, I swear by any oath you 
like that I shall have no knowledge of your existence 
when we ’ve finished,” he said. “ What ’s more, none 
of my men shall touch you.” 


An Amazing Development 223 

Houston was silent a moment, and then an ugly 
smile contorted his face. 

“ I accept your statement. You always kept faith, 
Werner. But outside your men you can’t promise. 
I think I ’ll make sure.” 

He was standing sideways to me, and he twirled 
swiftly about on his heel. But somehow I had an 
anticipation of his act in my mind. I dropped as 
he fired, and I dropped behind a stone. Ere he or 
I could follow up this treacherous act, Werner had 
stepped between. He was in a state of dreadful 
emotion, and looked gross and antic, like the god 
Mammon. 

“ Enough ! ” he said. “ Go on, or I ’ll shoot you 
myself.” 

Houston moved upward, slowly, with his eyes now 
looking on the ground, and now scanning the out- 
lying features of the landscape. He stopped again, 
and his face worked, and I knew he had forgotten 
me and his danger. If I had shot him then I should 
have drawn upon myself the vengeance of that de- 
humanized gang. Besides, I wanted him to face and 
see Death. 

“ Twenty paces from the stone,” he said, almost in 
a whisper. 

Werner rushed forward, and Houston darted past 
him. A cry rose on the air. When I reached them 
in the tail of the party, Werner was staring at an 
open cavity in the earth. 

“ My God ! ” said Houston in a low voice. “ My 
God!” 

Suddenly Werner turned on him. “ You ’ve rifled 


224 The Big Fish 

it, by thunder,” and struck at him with his clubbed 
hand. 

In that maddened and infuriated onslaught, Hous- 
ton must have seen the surety of an immediate death, 
for behind Werner, with menacing looks and ugly 
cries, were his partners in that desperate enterprise. 
He backed, and called out loudly. 

“ Fool ! Do you suppose I should have brought 
you here and risked this certainty? Oh, you sot of 
an ass ! Be a man and keep your senses ! ” 

His voice rang out plainly to all, and the in- 
sistence of his logic stayed even Werner in his frenzy. 
The blow had fallen on nothing but air. 

“ Some one ’s rifled it ! Some one ’s been here be- 
fore,” said Werner, with vacant fury. 

Houston sprang down into the cavity, and began 
to examine it. The whole place was like a tumbled 
surface of holes and mounds, resembling earth from 
which ironstone or flint had been extracted. It had 
been weathered by many suns and rains, as was 
apparent at a glance. 

“ This took place long ago,” said Houston pres- 
ently, in a hoarse voice. “ Probably a year ago.” 

And at that the same thought fell upon all of us, 
and was uttered by Werner. 

“Raymond!” 

Houston’s brow was black like thunder, and his 
whole countenance was ravaged with some passion 
to which, nevertheless, he did not give vent. 

“ Raymond ! ” he whispered back. 

Werner uttered an oath, and Jeff made the cliffs 
ring with the foulness of his outbreak. Biff Houston 


An Amazing Development 225 

alone was silent, exploring, examining, scrutinizing 
the broken ground about. 

Suddenly Werner turned and gave some order to 
Jeff in an undertone, and both men separated from 
the knot, and stalked toward the wondering Indians. 
At a word the mestizos also drew off, and the men 
set about pitching camp in a hollow. Houston was 
left digging with his followers, and from time to 
time I saw him look toward the others as if in mute 
interrogation of their attitude. 

What that was developed in due course. Werner 
had been seized with a suspicion ; he knew that 
traiterous heart, and he believed that Houston was at 
one more of his tricks. I, who had seen the passion 
on the man’s face, knew better, but Werner swore 
by all the gods that Houston had betrayed him again, 
and that this was not the place where the Fish had 
been cached. Only death was payment enough for 
the man who should so betray, but they dared not 
kill Houston, so long as there was a hope of obtain- 
ing the secret. As for me, I was indifferent. I re- 
flected that my opportunity was near, long waited 
for. I should meet Houston face to face, and settle 
my account "with him. I did not care whether they 
found the treasure or not. I laughed inwardly at 
their chagrin, and watched them with detached in- 
terest. There was something ominous in the silence. 
Werner sat in his tent and did nothing, and Houston 
was busy in the rifled cache. Something brooded in 
the air, which was full of storm. Toward afternoon 
I went to Werner. 

“ Will you give me this man now? ” I asked. 


226 


The Big Fish 

He looked at me, lowering. “ What do you want? ” 
he asked. “ I can’t be bothered with such as you at 
this time.” 

“ I ask this because we are outside the law here,” 
I said. “No writ runs in this outland place. Justice 
must be done, if at all, by private hands. This man’s 
life belongs to me. Will you give it to me? ” 

“ No,” said he bluntly. 

I left him, for I knew I should get what I wanted, 
though I might wait all the afternoon. Houston was 
digging — digging in the refuse sand, but now dig- 
ging with lessening hope, and a greater consciousness 
of the outside world. The area of the disturbed 
ground was considerable. It was patchy, like the 
excavated foundations of a Roman encampment on 
some ancient soil. I looked on, and I don’t think 
Houston noticed me. Indeed, I am sure he did not. 
If I had wanted any other evidence of his bona fides 
in the matter of this cache, here it was; he pursued 
his work with such abstracted eagerness that he did 
not even recognize his enemy. Yet he flagged slowly. 
While skirting the circumference of this area, I stum- 
bled over a stone, and my boot displaced it. In the 
descending fire of the sun something gleamed on the 
opened earth. I stooped, and picked it up. It was 
a precious stone. As I contemplated it I laughed. 
Was I the only one to inherit the sole relic of the 
Incas’ treasure? I wiped it on my coat-sleeve and 
polished it. The gem shone in the sunset, discharging 
fires at me. It was a beautiful ruby. When I looked 
up, Houston had ceased and was staring at me from 
a distance of forty yards. I think he came back in 


An Amazing Development 227 

that moment to a realization. He stared, and put 
his hand instinctively into his pocket. I turned away. 
The time was not yet ripe. 

I found Werner in the gloaming sitting before his 
tent, and I knew from his look that he had reached 
a determination. Storm was in the air. I have never 
known what the man had decided upon, but I have 
guessed it, from what he had said and done previously, 
and also — well, that is to come. You remember his 
introduction of Torquemada. I am glad now that I 
was the cause that blocked this horrible act of his, 
if it was that he contemplated, though if I had known 
it at the time, in those mad hours of mine, I would 
have stepped aside and seen a terrible justice done 
that way. Werner’s face wore a heavy scowl. 

44 Is n’t there room enough in the mountains?” 
he asked angrily. 

44 Not for me and this man,” I said. 

44 By thunder, don’t you understand he ’s mine, 
not yours? ” stormed Werner. 

44 See here, Werner,” I said, 44 you have some plan 
about Houston arranged on the supposition that he ’s 
been cheating you over the Fish.” 

He growled; that was all. 

44 Well, if I can prove that he is innocent, if I 
can show you that he has led you genuinely to the 
site of the old cache, will you give me this man? ” 

After a pause his answer came. 

44 If you can prove that, — yes. You can have 
him to shoot, burn or hang.” 

44 Very well ” ; and of a sudden I exposed the jewel 
in my open palm. 


228 


The Big Fish 


He clutched at it greedily. 

44 Where did you get this from? ” he asked. 

44 From the site where Houston is digging,” I 
replied. 

44 Has he found any? ” he cried eagerly. 

44 1 don’t know,” I said, 44 but if he has found any- 
thing it won’t be much. The place, as you saw, 
has been gone over. But this ruby only testifies 
to one thing, — that treasure was buried there once. 
Houston has played fair at last. Now I want 
him.” 

For a moment he did not answer, but fingered the 
jewel, as he considered the new fact and its inferences. 

44 Yes, you can do what you like,” he said at last, 
morosely. 44 We ’ve all played and lost,” and he 
turned and went into his tent with the ruby. 

I walked away from him and the camp. Houston 
had gone from the trenches at which he and his men 
had been working, and night was falling swiftly. I 
stood with the cold wind from the peaks snapping 
about me, and looked down at the figures in the dusk 
which were setting up tents. The farce was over, and 
the game was played out for all these men. As I 
looked, I saw the unmistakable square frame of 
Werner lurching across the gully towards Houston’s 
rising tents. The two rivals were equal in defeat, 
and might mingle their tears or their oaths for all 
that I cared. I had a strange mood. My enemy 
was there, exposed to my vengeance, and in the satis- 
faction of that knowledge I rested. Thoughts that 
had been absent from my mind for weeks flowed back 
into it, at first in driblets, as it were, and then in full 


An Amazing Development 229 

volume. I turned and descended into a trough of 
the Sierra. Houston would wait. 

The valley here was less austere and more gracious 
than most of the country. It was scattered with 
trees and scrub ; birds flitted in it ; and a mountain 
torrent frothed along it from the heights above. I 
walked in the shades of evening as if in a garden, in 
a mist of my own thoughts. I reviewed the whole 
fortunes of the venture in which Cassilis and I had 
so recklessly engaged, from the first moment when I 
had stepped out of the rainstorm into the auction 
room, and so fortuitously changed fate. I imaged 
Houston in the chair at the bungalow, his white teeth 
and ingratiating smile, his specious and reasonable 
argument. I followed the vicissitudes of the expe- 
dition with Coop, the strange encounter with the 
ladies, the horrid treachery of Houston, Werner’s 
gang — and suddenly all human things and counsel- 
lings and aspirations and ambitions seem to me very 
small and insignificant. Under the wonder of the 
stars now shining above me it was impossible not to 
see our world in its proper proportions. We were 
ants in an ant-hill, going about in a fuss on some 
business or other, encountering, crossing antennse, 
communicating vaguely with one another, misunder- 
standing, blundering, worrying, obeying the imper- 
fect instincts of our imperfect natures. And sud- 
denly to that succeeded the thought that the old 
Scripture was right, that Miss Varley was right also, 
and that the vengeance I sought was perhaps not 
mine to exact. I cannot say how long I wandered 
in the valley contending with these thoughts, but I 


230 


The Big Fish 


remember that as I did so something seemed to roll 
off my soul and leave me free. I would go back 
to my world, and whatsoever the laws of his world 
might require of Houston, that he should pay. But, 
as for myself, I would stand aside, abandon my mis- 
sion, and ask pardon for my arrogance. 

I mused in a more cheerful mood, which warmed 
with the release of my burden as I made my way back 
to the camp. The night was clear, and when I was 
drawing near the confines of Houston’s camp I was 
startled to see the body of a man lying on the rocks 
upon his side. It was an Indian, and he was dead. 
I did not recognize him as belonging to either 
Werner’s or Houston’s outfit, and I wondered, with 
a renewal of bitterness, if the hapless man had 
been a straggler from the native villages below, 
wantonly shot by the white men with whom I was 
associated. 

I left him and climbed the rise, skirted Houston’s 
camp, and crossed the small gully which separated it 
from Werner’s. In the firelight I saw a group of 
figures standing, and evidently awaiting me. As I 
got nearer, I discovered Werner and Houston side 
by side, and close by Jeff and others. Ere my recog- 
nition could go farther, I was hailed. 

“ I guess we want you some, Poindexter,” said 
Werner, “ as kind of interpreter.” 

I stared, for I had come among them now. 

“ We ’ve each done a bit of reading, Poindexter,” 
said Houston smiling. “ It ’s your turn now.” 

“ I understand nothing of what you ’re saying,” 
I replied curtly. 


An Amazing Development 231 

Werner lifted a hand, and I saw it held a piece 
of paper. 

“ Give me a light, Jeff,” he commanded. 

Jeff lit a torch from the fire, and thrust it over 
me, and under the shower of light and sparks I read 
a pencil note in an unknown hand as follows: 

“My dear Friend: It has occurred to me that I ought to 
have told you before this — that what those men seek (not 
you now, I know) is not where it is supposed to be, but has 
been removed. It came upon me suddenly that it might con- 
cern you to know this. I don’t know why. If it is of ad- 
vantage to you, I shall be glad. I am sending this by one 
of my Indians. We are still camped where you found us. 

Sincerely yours, 

Mercedes Varley.” 


CHAPTER XVI 


MERCEDES 


RUSH of cold fear mingled in my heart with 



-UjL the fury which gushed forth and overwhelmed 
all other emotions in its broad torrent. I looked at 
the ruffians. 

“Well?” I said. “It seems that some one has 
been making free with my property.” 

“ Oh, that was one of Houston’s men. Smart 
man, Diego ! ” said Werner. “ But that ’s not inter- 
esting. It ’s past history. We want you to interpret 
the enigma.” 

“ I have grown so accustomed to murder as a daily 
recreation,” I said slowly, “ that I suppose I should 
feel no surprise at mere theft.” 

“ Mere borrowing, Poindexter,” amended Hous- 
ton, in a deprecatory voice. “We have scrupulously 
returned the billet-doux, as you will notice, and we 
should be much obliged for the address.” 

“ Good Lord, man, so you suppose I ’m going 
to tell you that? ” I asked contemptuously. 

“ I have every hope and confidence that you will,” 
said Houston gently. 

I laughed. “ I thought you were a clever, discern- 
ing scoundrel, but I find you merely a scoundrel.” 


Mercedes 233 

Werner broke in roughly. 44 Look here, we ’re in 
no humor to wait and bandy wits here. You ’ve got 
to say where the lady is. That ’s the long and short 
of it. Now ! ” 

I turned to him. 44 Do you remember an old 
proverb, Werner: 4 One man may lead a horse to the 
water, but twenty cannot make him drink ’? ” 

44 1 guess we ’ll try,” he snarled. 

Houston leaned to him and whispered something, 
and I turned to go ; but the next moment I was down 
upon the ground, tripped up, knocked over by Jeff 
and a mestizo. 

44 No; I’ll give it the chance,” I heard Werner 
say to something his companion urged. 44 When I ’m 
pressed I don’t mind, but I don’t do it for the love 
of it.” 

I had struggled ineffectively, and was now a pris- 
oner in the hands of my captors. At a word from 
Werner, I was taken to a tent, bound with ropes and 
left to my own reflections. There I lay for some 
hours, until well into the night, a prey to miserable 
thoughts, hearing the sounds of the camp, of coming 
and going, and watching the glare of the flames of 
the fires on the canvas. Toward midnight I fell 
asleep, and woke with the dawn, hungry and stiff, and 
above all thirsty. Werner pushed aside the flap and 
entered shortly afterward. 

44 Are you going to loose your tongue, my son? ” 
he asked gruffly. 

44 No,” I answered shortly. 

He sat down. 44 Look here, Poindexter. This girl 
somehow knows something. What she wrote you 


234 


The Big Fish 

is n’t bluff or fluff. She ’s serious. She has got 
information somehow of the Big Fish and knows 
it was removed. Maybe, by thunder, she ’s removed 
it herself,” he said suddenly, as if to himself. 64 1 
never quite swallowed the botany tale. Anyway, 
we ’re out for the Fish, and we ’ve got to get it. 
Comprenez ? And you ’d better make the best of the 
job by letting us know where the lady’s camp is. 
I give my oath no harm shall happen to her. We 
just want a quiet talk with her.” 

44 Supposing,” said I, 44 that she refuses you the 
information you want, providing, that is, she has it? ” 

44 We won’t suppose anything of the kind,” said 
he bluntly, 44 any more than we ’ll suppose that you 
won’t open your mouth.” 

44 Well, suppose I don’t? ” I asked defiantly. 

44 You won’t be such a fool, Poindexter,” he said 
slowly. 

44 You make me tired,” I said. 44 Do you think as 
a man I ’m going to give away a woman for you 
to harry? My God, what sort of thing do you take 
me for? I never realized before the exact baseness 
of the company I am keeping, who could imagine 
that! ” 

He stalked out. 44 1 ’ll give you till this evening,” 
he said as he left. 

I knew why I was left that much grace, for it 
was evident that the scouts were out in all directions, 
and what I feared was that one would chance upon 
Miss Yarley’s camp. Werner, however, relieved my 
fears on this score later in the day. When he visited 
me toward evening, it was evident from his face that 


Mercedes 23 5 

they had failed to locate the camp; and his first 
words confirmed my impression. 

“ You ’ve had time to digest the situation, Poin- 
dexter,” he said ; 44 so I ’ve come for your answer.” 

44 You ’ve had it,” I replied. 

44 I ’ll add this much before I accept it,” he said. 
44 It ’s absolutely impossible for the girl to escape our 
search. We ’re bound to run her to earth ; so that 
all you will be doing will be hurrying up the process, 
which might be a good thing all round, if you regard 
it properly.” 

44 There is only one answer,” I replied, 44 and you 
have had it.” 

44 You refuse information? ” he said heavily. 

44 1 refuse.” 

44 Then the Lord have mercy on you,” he said 
fiercely, 44 for I won’t.” 

He went out, and I heard his voice raised, and 
shortly afterwards two mestizos entered the tent, and 
raised me as I was, bound with ropes and cords, and 
carried me out into the open. The sun was gone, 
and twilight was approaching, the brief, untender 
twilight of those latitudes. Far off, far down in the 
mists which swam about the grave of the sun, stretched 
the sea and civilization. Here were the mountains 
and savagery. 44 Feels a bit cold, don’t it?” said 
Werner. 44 Never mind, there are ways to better 
that.” 

He strode away, and I heard the rumble of his 
voice in the distance. Next came a couple of Indians 
armed with bundles of brushwood and dried grass, 
with which they replenished the fire. I had been 


236 


The Big Fish 

laid upon the ground near by, and the access of 
warmth in that cold night was agreeable to me, so 
that I forgot for a time even the cords about me. 
Werner came up again and looked down on me, and 
I was conscious that there were other figures re- 
garding me, though the dancing fire partially hid 
them. 

“ Comfortable? ” he asked, and grinned. 

By that time the fire had gained strength and 
volume, and I was beginning to feel it scorch my 
legs. Werner called to some one in the background, 
and Miguel emerged out of the murk, stooped, and 
took off my boots. Werner kicked the fire. It shot 
up, and the flame seized and singed my naked feet 
and ankles. I gave a cry of pain. Werner grinned. 
There was something tossing in the current of my 
mind — a word was it? — a name — Ah, Torque- 
mada ! 

“You’ll give us that information, Poindexter?” 

I heard the sound of the voice through pain. 

“ No,” I said raucously. “ I ’ll see you in H — 
first.” 

“ No fear; I ’m clearing out of it,” he said grimly, 
and marched off, leaving me to the endurance of 
that growing agony. 

I don’t like to resume the full memory of that 
next hour. It was what Werner had by inference 
called it. It was Hell. As the fire gained force 
and spread toward me, the pangs became excruci- 
ating. It scorched and singed and shrivelled; it 
seemed to dry up the blood within me, to the accom- 
paniment of insufferable torments. The flame played 


Mercedes 237 

on the tender surfaces of the body, causing actions 
and reactions that made me writhe in my bonds. I 
screamed out. 

Werner returned and stood looking at me, and I 
think I must have cursed him in my pain. There 
were voices mingling, but I was too greatly distracted 
to realize anything that might be in progress. I 
remember vaguely muttering “ no ” to Werner’s 
question. My eyes closed. I felt him stoop and look 
at me. He was gone when I opened my eyes again. 
My feet were molten pain ; a sword was in my groin. 
I could not move. I lifted my voice to call Werner 
and could not. There was no volume in it. I had 
given up. Werner might have all the treasure in 
the world. I did not care. Gold mattered nothing to 
me, nor jewels; honor did n’t matter. Nothing mat- 
tered save intolerable pain. I closed my eyes again, 
while something I recollected far back from a book 
flowed into my brain. I did not know where it came 
from; it was simply a sentence retained by memory 
in its agony — “ When it reaches my heart I shall 
die.” You will remember it was what Socrates 
said when he had taken the poison. That was 
how I felt about the fire. The heat, which was 
like ice, was mounting. When it reached my heart 
I should die. I was falling into a stupor of pain 
— I was the pain itself ; it was me. There was 
nothing else. 

Suddenly I was aware of a sharp feeling in an- 
other region, near my shoulder. I opened my eyes 
with what was intended for a cry, for while the 
tract of pain below had become part of me, this 


238 


The Big Fish 


was an assault in a fresh quarter. I saw weakly what 
had happened. A brand from the fire had flown out 
and alighted on me. It burned hard and fierce 
through my clothing, and I shrank from it, and then, 
to my astonishment, my shoulder eased and broke 
through the cordage. The brand had burned this 
through with my coat. I found now that I could 
move my right arm, and very slowly and with great 
difficulty I disengaged it and set to work on the 
rest of the web. 

It took me nearly a quarter of an hour to clear 
myself, and each moment I was afraid that Werner 
or some other of the gang would return. But ap- 
parently he intended that this dose of torture should 
be final as an argument, and that I should yield to 
it; and he had purposely protracted it. I drew up 
my wounded feet and bathed them in the cold sand. 
They scorched so that I could have screamed aloud. 
But I held myself in check, and bit by bit worked 
myself away. I could hear sounds of the gang, as 
they ate and drank fifty paces away, but the smoke 
of the fire partially clouded their view of their 
prisoner. At last I dared to get to my feet, and, 
like a stricken animal, limped away behind the fire 
towards the gully. 

To this day I don’t know if I should have escaped 
but for the accident that Werner had hobbled his 
mules on the farther side of the fire in some scrub. 
I was guided to them blunderingly and, cutting the 
hobbles with my knife, I appropriated one for my 
use. I was in instant fear lest any commotion among 
the beasts should betray me, a fear as terrible as 


Mercedes 239 

that of Werner’s return to the fire. But I succeeded 
in mounting the mule without disturbing its com- 
panions, and I turned its head into the gully. How 
I prayed to God that the night would swallow me up ! 
And I believe that in some way there was a response 
to that heartfelt prayer; for the sky, which had 
been fairly light, clouded presently, and fell blacker, 
so that I scarcely could tell in what direction I was 
going. I had a vague sense of where I was heading; 
it was to the uplands where the peak stood up beside 
the dawn; but I knew no more, and I wandered at 
a venture, trusting only in my weakness to some 
higher and merciful Power. 

That did not fail me. I believe that at times I 
was unconscious, as my mule jogged on. I set my 
course as best I could at intervals when I woke. I 
ate nothing; I had eaten nothing all day, and I 
drank from the pools and torrents in the valleys. 
I must have been blundering on for many hours with- 
out a knowledge of how time was passing, only con- 
scious of pain and weariness and cold, for that which 
had suffered agonies from heat was now exposed to 
the other extreme. The night wind was like a knife, 
but I blessed it. It blew over, round, and, as it 
seemed to me, through a free man. The early gray 
of the dawn found me still wandering on the moun- 
tains, and I fell into one of my unconscious states. 
It was in this swoon that I entered Miss Varley’s 
camp, guided thither by Manuel, who had encountered 
me by accident while he was reconnoitering. My earli- 
est recollection is that my feet were being laved in a 
gentle warmth, and that some one was applying medi- 


240 The Big Fish 

caments to the swollen flesh. I believe my first words 
were banal and formal. 

44 1 ’m sorry to be a nuisance.” Then I saw that 
it was Miss Varley. 44 I got your note,” I said, with 
equal banality. She stopped for a moment in her 
work, and regarded me, I thought, pitifully. 

44 What have they done to you ? ” she cried. 44 Oh, 
what have they done to you? ” 

44 1 ’m glad,” I said stumblingly, 44 I ’m so glad.” 
It was foolish, incredibly foolish, but I could n’t help 
it. I was glad; glad to see her there bending over 
my feet and tending me with solicitude. And then, 
suddenly, I was ashamed, and made as if to stand up. 
But she stopped me. 

44 No, no, you must n’t — you can’t, you dare n’t.” 

I gazed at her face, over which the glorious hair 
had loosened and spread. This was no longer my 
Queen of the Snows, but my Lady of Pity. 

44 They killed the messenger,” I blurted out. 

44 Yes ; I was afraid something had happened, as 
he did n’t return.” She looked up at me. 44 That 
was why Manuel went out. He was anxious as to 
what might be happening. I — we were anxious 
when we did not hear from you.” 

44 You have saved, my life again,” I said. 44 You 
and Manuel.” 

She stood up to her full height. 44 Tell me how 
this happened,” she said in another voice, one of 
command, of authority. She pointed to my feet. 

44 It was the system of Torquemada,” I said, with 
a faint smile. 

She was silent a moment, and then said slowly: 


Mercedes 241 

“ You say they killed poor Juan. Then they must 
have got the letter.” 

I said nothing. 

“ I see,” she exclaimed, with a great bitterness. 
“ This is what happened,” and suddenly she sobbed 
out passionately : “ Oh, that you should have suffered 
this because of my folly ! Oh, that you should have 
had — ” she hid her face in her hands, and her body 
was convulsed. The thought of torture was too much 
for her, as for all women. I rose to my feet, this 
time with none to chide me, and hardly felt the pain, 
as I put my hand on her head. 

“ Mercedes ! Mercedes ! ” I don’t think I knew I 
was using her name. She lifted her face in wonder, 
the tears yet in her eyes. 

“You suffered this hell rather than tell?” she 
whispered. 

“ I would not tell, if I were in a thousand hells,” 
I said passionately. “ You think there is a pain 
there in these feet. I feel nothing. It is not they 
that are wounded and suffering. It is my heart, my 
heart. Fire has not injured them; the fire is in my 
heart, Mercedes ! ” 

Her hands touched the tips of mine, and hers were 
cold like ice. I took them in mine and warmed them. 

“ Do you know what you said just now? ” she 
asked lowly. 

“ I called on your name,” I answered softly. 

“No; I mean before that — when you were 
scarcely conscious.” 

“ I know nothing except that I am here and with 
you.” 


242 


The Big Fish 

“ You said what you said once before,” she an- 
swered gently. “ Do you remember when you came 
into the camp with the fever upon you, and fell at 
my feet? ” 

“What did I say? ” I asked, drawing her gently 
to me. 

She whispered. 

“ I am glad. I am glad. I say it again,” I whis- 
pered back. “ From the beginning of the world I 
was destined to say that to you. Hear it again, and 
again, now and now.” 

I whispered the words in her ear, and I held her 
to me, thrilled to the quick with the exquisite emotion 
of that moment, and oblivious of all pain and danger 
and trouble and sorrow. 

Presently Mercedes withdrew from my arms. “ You 
must remember you are an invalid,” she said, and 
then irrelevantly : “ And to think that I hated you 
— once ! ” 

“ You hated me for what you thought, and per- 
haps a little for what I was,” I answered. “ But I 
am that no longer. What treasure I have is here, 
and with me. I want no other.” 

She gazed at me in a little abstraction, standing 
there with the fine nobility of form which had ap- 
pealed to me from the first. “ I had no right to 
blame you, or to criticise you,” she said sadly, “ I, 
least of all.” 

“ I was an adventurer greedy for gold,” I re- 
minded her. 

“ Greedy for adventure, I think,” she amended, 
smiling. “ It is I who have been greedy for gold.” 


Mercedes 243 

“ I don’t understand,” I said. “ What does it 
all mean? What did your letter mean? ” 

“ Yes, there is my story,” she said, after a pause, 
and speaking slowly. “ I know yours. You must 
have mine. I wrote to you that the treasure had 
been removed.” 

“ You found it? ” I interjected as a question. 

“ No. I know where it is, but I did not find it. 
I owe you an explanation. The treasure was re- 
moved a year ago by Mr. Raymond. You know me 
as Mercedes Varley. My name is Mercedes Varley 
Raymond. Don Ramon was my father.” 

There was a long silence between us, but I held 
her hand. 

“ Will you tell me more? ” I asked gently, as soon 
as the wonder of this announcement had abated. 

“ My father had an estate in California,” said 
Mercedes, leaving her hand in mine. “ He was a 
dreamer rather than a practical man, and he had 
studied deeply the history of the American continent. 
Above all, the Conquest of Mexico and Peru by his 
ancestors had seized hold of his imagination. He 
pored over books on this subject, he made collections 
of antiquities bearing on it, and he had gathered to- 
gether a lot of strange and new material, as he con- 
sidered, for a history of the Aztecs and the Incas. 
It was in that way that he was brought into a study 
of the treasure which the Incas were known to have 
had, and to have buried when hard pressed by the 
Spaniards. My father thought he had determined 
the place of burial, and he made an expedition to 
Peru to follow up the clues. 


244 


The Big Fish 

“ I believe,” said Mercedes softly, “ that he did 
this, that he was anxious to find this out, more for 
the sake of the antiquarian interest in it than because 
of the value of the treasure. He was not a wealthy 
man, but he had plenty of money for his tastes. 
We lived very simply in California. My mother died 
when I was a child. Her name was Varley, which 
was why I assumed it on this expedition. 

“ My father and I were much attached to each 
other. He was generous and kind, but he was neces- 
sarily somewhat aloof from practical life, engrossed 
by his studies. That is what I mean when I say I 
don’t think he was influenced by the value of the 
treasure — at least, not at first. 

“ My father, in his expedition in these Andes, 
came upon an Indian village in the fastnesses of the 
mountains, and became friendly with the old chief. 
He had learned Indian dialects in his enthusiasm for 
the subject, and was able to talk with the chief. This 
man, when they had grown friendly, communicated to 
my father a secret. He was of the old Inca stock, 
as were the tribes of that district, and he had in- 
herited many traditions. The Indians were sun- 
worshipers like their more cultivated ancestors. 
This man, Ingres, my father wrote, was the hereditary 
keeper and custodian of the ancient temple of 
Astarnok, and, though it was in ruins, the Indians 
held it in great reverence and scrupulous respect. 
Ingres told my father a great deal about the temple, 
had stories of its foundation, and strange traditions 
connected with it. There was one thing which he 
held sacred, and that he showed my father. It was 


Mercedes 245 

a metal box which he had unearthed within the pre- 
cincts of the sanctuary, and which he kept buried 
there. My father examined this. Ingres declared it 
to contain sacred scriptures of the Incas ; but he 
could not read. The box contained a scroll, stained 
yellow with age, but decipherable, and the scroll was 
filled with writing in ancient Spanish.” 

“ The priest ! ” I exclaimed, in my eager interest. 
“ That scroll has perished like the unfortunate 
priest.” 

Mercedes sighed. “ One more death due to this 
terrible quest,” she said, and resumed her story. 
“ My father deciphered the writing, and found, to 
his amazement and delight, that it had been penned 
by a dying sailor probably two hundred years before, 
and purported to give the location of the Big Fish 
which had been interesting him. My father never 
discovered, or at least never told me, how the sailor’s 
secret came to be buried in the casket in the ruins 
of the temple. But Ingres held it sacred, not know- 
ing what it contained, but satisfied that it was con- 
nected with the ritual of his religion. Now, I have 
told you that my father was not so much interested 
in the question of the treasure as in the Incas an- 
tiquities, and this was true. But I think that from 
that time on, somehow, perhaps naturally, the treas- 
ure grew on him. It seized his imagination.” 

“ He was not to blame. It seized on mine,” 
I interrupted. “ It would have seized on any 
one’s.” 

“ Yes, that is so,” agreed Mercedes, “ and yet I 
think there must be something fatal in the infatu- 


246 


The Big Fish 

ation. My father — ” She sighed again. “ I am 
near the end now, which, alas, was to mean his end 
also. Leaving Astarnok and the priest, he made out 
the bearings of the cache with some difficulty, and 
after one or two false solutions he at last found the 
right one. The Big Fish lay at his disposal. 

“ I think that by this time the treasure had become 
an obsession. He started out with a small equip- 
ment, and now he dismissed his Indians, and was left 
alone with a few mules. He did not wish any one 
to know of his operations. He dug up the treasure, 
and packed it on his mules, and set out for the coast. 
It was terrible weather in the mountains. The Sierras 
were in sandstorms daily. Heat and cold alike were 
unendurable. His mules began to fail. One died, 
and the extra burden placed upon the others made 
them flag. Soon he perceived that it would be im- 
possible for him to make the coast in these conditions, 
and so he hit upon the plan of rehiding the treasure. 
The death of a second mule hastened his decision, 
and he deposited the treasure in a safe place of con- 
cealment, and went on. 

“ The bad weather continued. He lost all his 
mules, and, some days later, staggered half dead into 
the camp of some prospectors.” 

“ Yes,” said I, “ and that ’s really where the story 
begins.” 

“ That is where the tragic part of it begins,” said 
Mercedes. 46 My father’s inadvertence let out to 
these scoundrels, whom you know as Houston and 
Werner’s gang, the secret he had wished to guard. 
The result was that he was a persecuted man. He 


Mercedes 247 

was shadowed wherever he went, and the pursuit fol- 
lowed him even to England, where he went in an 
effort to shake it off. It got on his nerves, and 
affected his health. He suspected every one. He re- 
sorted to various devices to try to throw off his 
tormentors, and at last, finding even his landlord 
in the pay of the gang, he hit upon a notion to de- 
ceive them.” 

Mercedes paused. The day was growing over the 
peaks, and the camp was in a bustle, but I had no 
eye or ears for others than she. 

“You know about the lacquered box?” I asked. 

“ Before he died — it must have been some two 
days before — my father wrote to me a long letter. 
It is because of that letter I am here. I had heard 
from him earlier, from Lima, as to the remarkable 
discovery he had made, but from London he wrote 
full particulars and details. He knew he was dying, 
and he gave me instructions to equip an expedition 
to recover the Big Fish.” 

“And you have done so?” I asked. 

“No.” Mercedes was silent a moment; then she 
added : “ It rests where he left it. I have not touched 
it. You shall hear presently. But you ask me about 
the lacquered boxes. They were my father’s device 
to deceive his sworn enemies. I think he must have 
trusted to his message in the box to lead his foes 
astray, and exhaust them in a profitless venture. I 
knew of the lacquered boxes, but I do not know how 
you came to have knowledge of them.” 

And at that I told her our story, so far as it 
had been unknown to her before, of the auction 


248 


The Big Fish 

room and the burglary, and of all that had fol- 
lowed in sequence to the hour of our meeting in 
the Sierra. 

She listened attentively, and when I had finished 
she said : “ This treasure has brought nothing but 
evil. It should be left where it is.” 

“ Yes,” said I. “ As the treasure belongs to you, 
you have the right to dispose of it. Where you say, 
there it shall lie.” 

Suddenly she put her hands on my shoulder, and 
looked at me earnestly. 

“ I want to get back to Lima ; I want to leave 
this cruel place.” 

“ My dear, my dear ! ” I cried, stroking her head, 
“ we will go back together now.” 

There was a certain commotion in the camp which 
drew my eyes even from Mercedes at this moment. 

“ Manuel ! ” she exclaimed, as the Indian came 
loping through the scrub, and over the fire towards 
her. “What is it, Manuel?” 

The Indian, in whom I recognized the North 
American type, was breathing heavily, with distended 
nostrils. He pointed north. 

“ They are coming,” he said simply. “ They have 
got on the trail.” 

“ Oh ! ” I cried out in dismay and fury. “ I have 
brought ruin on you.” 

She shook her head, smiling. “ It is I who brought 
it on you — and torture. No; no.” She turned to 
Manuel, and spoke rapidly in Spanish. 

“ We can be on the way in half an hour,” she 
said to me. 


Mercedes 249 

I shook my head. “ If they are on the trail, they 
are bound to overtake us.” 

“ Then what do you advise ? ” She looked at me 
anxiously, hanging on my words. 

“ We must prepare to defend ourselves,” I said 
decisively. 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE CLEFT IN THE ROCKS 

M Y words must have been startling, but she did 
not wince nor protest. Her face was a shade 
paler; that was all. 

“You think they will attack us?” she asked. 

“ If they find us, and you refuse to give them the 
information they want, they will not hesitate. They 
are men utterly without scruple, as their treatment 
of your father shows. But you can save the situation 
by telling them where the treasure is. Your letter 
must have told them that you know where it is.” 

Here, however, was my surprise, and a return of 
my marble queen. Mercedes drew herself up. “ They 
shall not learn one word from me about the treasure. 
It is my father’s; let it lie where he laid it.” 

“ Then we will fortify ourselves against attack,” 
I said, smiling. 

“ But you — your feet — ” said Mercedes, pro- 
testing. 

“ There is no time to consider feet,” I said. “ Be- 
sides, my dearest, they are ever so much better for 
your ministrations. Give me moccasins or something, 
and a mule for the moment, and I ’ll not call the king 
my cousin, certainly not this day, of all days.” 


The Cleft in the Rocks 251 

“ Manuel, Mr. Poindexter says we must prepare 
for the enemy,” said Mercedes to her faithful hench- 
man. 

He nodded, and spoke in guttural Spanish which 
I could not follow. Mercedes turned to me. 

“ He agrees with you. The trail will be too clear, 
and they would overtake us.” 

“ How far away are they? ” I asked. 

Manuel’s reply was that we might expect them 
during the afternoon, unless something threw the 
hounds off the scent. 

“ Let me have a mule,” I said, and when Manuel 
had gone, I suddenly remembered Mrs. Chester; and 
I think this was only because my eyes lighted on 
her at that moment. She came out of a tent where 
she had been blessedly hidden, and walked toward us. 
Her eyes were heavy, and her face worn. She gave 
me her hand. I knew she had known I was there, 
and in my heart I thanked her for her tact. 

“ Is it true that they are coming? ” she inquired 
wearily, I thought. 

Mercedes answered her : “ It is possible they may 
find us. We ’re going to stay here.” Suddenly she 
said impulsively: “Would you tell them where the 
treasure is if you were in my case, Freda? ” 

Mrs. Chester I had always looked upon as a gen- 
tlewoman of eminently feminine instincts; but she 
amazed me now with her outburst. 

“ No, Mercedes,” she said fiercely. “ Tell them 
nothing. Let us fight them if they come. Let us 
destroy these thieves and murderers.” 

Mercedes passed her arm round her, and gave me 


252 


The Big Fish 

a meaning look; and just then Manuel came up with 
the mule. I had been tired and exhausted with my 
experiences of the night, but somehow I had received 
the breath of new life from Mercedes, and I felt re- 
freshed, and even vigorous. It was the spirit given 
a new lease and dominating the weary flesh. Manuel 
and I made an examination of the neighborhood, and 
in a very short time we had resolved to move the 
camp as a result of our exploration. The rocky sad- 
dle, in the shelter of which the camp had been pitched, 
terminated abruptly on one side in a huge cliff, 
which abutted on a narrow gorge in the bed of a 
wild torrent. Across the stream the peaks rose in 
a bold succession of bluffs, clad with snow, and reach- 
ing in some cases to aspiring heights. The loftiest 
were even now, as we moved in the early morning, lost 
in the mists of those lonely altitudes. The torrent, 
which we crossed after a little trouble, caused at 
once by the rockiness of the bed and the extreme 
velocity of the water, was reinforced in the trough 
of the gorge by a violent little stream from a chasm 
in the countervailing cliff. Examining this, we found 
that the cleft in the rocks from which the stream 
issued penetrated into the cliff one hundred yards or 
more, and, beginning with a narrow passage like the 
neck of a bottle, twelve feet wide, expanded into a 
broader space, in which it would be impossible to 
hide many more people than constituted our camp. 
We had in all eight Indians, exclusive of Manuel, and 
ten mules, and I learned with satisfaction that the 
mules were still heavily loaded. That meant that 
we were well provisioned, and could stand a siege, if 


253 


The Cleft in the Rocks 

it came to the crisis. The cleft in the gorge was 
almost as if it had been made for us, and we lost 
no time in transferring the camp across the torrent, 
and setting it up again in that seclusion. 

This we accomplished before midday. Manuel had 
reckoned that Houston and Werner would complete 
the trail by the afternoon ; so that there was yet a 
little time to spare. Before the necessity and the 
practicability of action, my spirits rose. I no longer 
felt my injuries, though I was obliged to use a mule, 
and I confess that my new relations with Mercedes 
had so divinely stimulated me that I was in a riot 
of delight. 

This menace of the enemy I minded no more than 
if it had been a game on which we were to embark, 
a trial of strength, say, in a football match. 

I was resolved that we should be equal to the foe, 
and indeed superior, and I was prepared to crack 
heads with glee. I reckoned up the men in the 
camps. There were seven Indians and Diego with 
Houston, and Werner had even a larger following, 
besides the whites. But I did not pay much heed to 
the Indians, a mild and reluctant race. The mestizos 
were different, and could be trusted to fight for their 
masters. It was obvious that we were greatly out- 
numbered, even if we could rely upon our Indians. 
Manuel, a shrewd fellow, had already settled in his 
own mind upon the pitch to which these could be 
trusted, and he pointed out two Cholos, who, he de- 
clared, would prove their devotion to their mistress. 
That, you will see, only gave us four fighting men. 

We were, however, hoping that there would be no 


254 


The Big Fish 

conflict, and that the gang would drive over the 
Sierra after an imaginary quarry, while we hugged 
our close quarters in the gorge. In any case, I never 
doubted the issues. Nothing on earth could come 
between me and mine, and the desire of my heart. 
I moved in an ecstasy, on altitudes of mind and soul 
from which all else was seen small, petty, insignificant, 
and negligible. 

The Indians sent out to discover the progress of 
the raiders returned with the information that they 
were making up a difficult ravine some miles to the 
northwest, and it was, therefore, not possible for them 
to reach us until quite late in the afternoon. Our 
dispositions were made, and all was in readiness. 

We were, I found fairly supplied with arms; and 
I replaced my lost revolver. There was ammunition 
in plenty, as practically none of the supplies had 
been drawn upon. Mercedes, with that exquisite 
surrender she had made, seemed to have entrusted 
me with all things. She stood aside, and allowed 
me to take command, and I thanked her for that dear 
exhibition of her faith. 

“ Supposing I am incompetent? ” I asked. 

“ But you are not,” she returned. 

“ What makes you say that ? ” I questioned her. 

She was silent, turned a rose-color, and smiled. 
“ I don’t know. I feel it.” 

“ Shall I tell you what it is ? ” I said. “ It is 
your love. For love spells faith and hope and every- 
thing. All other emotions and sentiments have their 
source in love, and flow from it. That was the one 
flaw I could detect in the English version of the 


The Cleft in the Rocks 255 

Bible. Why Faith, Hope and Charity? It should 
be, and is now, Love. Charity is cold, as cold as — 
as charity. But Love is full of warmth and bright- 
ness. Well, dearest, your love stimulates your faith. 
I shall endeavor to be worthy of both.” 

“ I trust you — I trust you all in all, I, who 
doubted you once,” she said earnestly, giving me her 
hands. “ Come with me now, and I will show you 
what none knows but me. But you shall know.” 

“ I who am one with you,” I murmured gently ; 
and the rose blossomed in her cheeks. 

Manuel brought us mules, and we wended our way 
down the gorge, turned up a tributary canon, and, 
mounting gradually, entered a pass between black and 
gloomy hills. They were bare and stony, and en- 
closed, as in a ring of black summits, a black and 
ice-cold lake. Here and there the hills rose sheer 
from the dark water with jutting crags and abutting 
precipices, but in other parts the height receded leav- 
ing a shore. But, seen on this day as I saw it, the 
lake, which was no more than a few miles in circum- 
ference, was a dead thing. It lay stretched like 
a stagnant pool in the Inferno, and imagination could 
conceive the abysmal horrors in its depth. The water 
held no movement, and filled the basin like ink in 
a cup without a ripple or stir at the edges. It 
seemed hardly water, but rather something heavier, 
some Stygian slime at which to shudder. I think 
Mercedes did shudder. 

“ This is where my father hid the treasure,” she 
said in a low voice. 

I gazed. The sky was clear and clean overhead. 


256 


The Big Fish 

but had no reflection in that blackness. I went to 
the verge of the water, and peered in. The shallows 
soon merged in the profundity of the lake, and im- 
pressed me dismally. 

46 Was it here? ” I asked. 

44 Yes, the directions were explicit in his letter. 
He sank them in his flight, and always meant to re- 
turn. Those men prevented that. Do you not think 
I should hold them responsible for his death? ” 

46 Yes.” 

44 1 ’m glad. Now you know why I would cut off 
my hand rather than give them this secret. Like you, 
I have something to avenge.” 

44 Dearest, I think I gave that up, and it was your 
words that persuaded me.” 

44 How strange ! ” she said. 44 1 remember. I was 
myself doubting, wondering, at the time. I wavered 
for ever so long. I wish I knew.” She was silent. 
44 But this they shall never know. I will die sooner. 
To hand to those guilty men the means of wealth, 
a colossal fortune — no, it is inconceivable ! 99 

44 Let it rest, and await the day of Judgment,” 
I said softly, and we turned on an impulse together, 
and went slowly away. 

That was my only exploration. For the rest of 
the afternoon we remained in concealment, and when 
the sun had long faded from the walls of our refuge, 
we were still keeping close, watching and waiting. I 
flattered myself that the trail could not be traced 
from the old camp to our present retreat, for we had 
taken elaborate means to obliterate it, and for that 
purpose had traveled in the bed of the torrent for 


257 


The Cleft in the Rocks 

some distance. Even if the trail were picked up as 
far as the stream, it would cease there. Yet what 
would happen, if Werner found there was nothing 
beyond? This was the point of anxiety, for it was 
possible that this discovery, if he made it, would 
chain the brigands to the neighborhood, at least until 
their stores gave out. But I reflected with satis- 
faction that our better supplies would give us the 
advantage over them. On the whole, I concluded 
that there was no ground for discouragement, and 
I said so. Both Mercedes and Mrs. Chester behaved 
with admirable pluck, the one because it was her 
nature, and her blood ran strong and full in cases 
of emergency; the other, I think, out of a kind of 
apathy into which she had fallen. So dusk came, 
and, having set our guards, we settled into sleep. 

The night passed quietly enough, without alarms, 
but as I was anxious to know how we stood, I made 
investigations at dawn. 

To my astonishment, there was no sign of the 
gang. I passed out of the cleft into the gorge,, and 
examined the surrounding hills with the aid of field 
glasses ; and, finding nothing to disturb me, I crossed 
the stream and crept up the hill opposite in the 
direction of the earlier camp. Here nothing was 
visible, and I came to the conclusion that Werner 
and Houston had missed the trail, and gone off on 
a false scent. If so, our situation might be improved, 
for we had only to pull out and descend the Sierras, 
with perhaps two days between us and our pursuers. 

I returned as carefully as I had come, keeping a 
wary watch on all aspects of the gorge. It stretched 


258 


The Big Fish 


between majestic heights, and vanished in a bend 
farther up. It was scattered with boulders, and the 
torrent ran at this time of year, at any rate, in a 
central channel. In the time of heavy rains or melt- 
ing snows, I could conceive that the flood filled the 
canon. I was half-way across the bed of the stream 
when I caught sight of a man’s figure moving on 
the farther side, and even as I caught sight of him 
he came to an abrupt stop behind a huge boulder. 
His back was toward me, and I do not suppose I 
was more than two hundred yards away; but the 
river was between us. I recognized him at that dis- 
tance as one of Werner’s half-breeds. It was obvious 
that he did not see me, for he was gazing toward 
the cleft where our camp lay, and now I made out 
at the entrance to the passage Manuel’s figure, as it 
were on sentry duty. Clearly the mestizo had caught 
sight of him, and consequently was in possession of 
our secret. 

I hope I shall never in my life repeat the horrible 
'experience of mental doubt through which I went dur- 
ing the next five minutes. It amounted to an agony. 
Swiftly the considerations swept into my mind, leav- 
ing me chilled with horror. I saw the whole logic 
of the position. This man had stumbled upon our 
hiding-place. He must not be allowed to go bach 
with his information. It was the sequence of that 
thought, the inevitable sequence which filled me with 
terror. In my lamed condition, it was not conceivable 
that I should be able to cross the stream and sur- 
prise him, and so take him captive. There was only 
one alternative. I had a rifle. I threw it forward. 


259 


The Cleft in the Rocks 

The man was an easy mark, for he never moved; 
he crouched behind the rock waiting, with his eyes 
on Manuel. I could have brought him down as 
easily as a sitting bird, a barn-door fowl. But his 
back was to me. 

I could not, I dared not draw the trigger. Once, 
twice I aimed, and then dropped the muzzle of the 
gun; and then the situation solved itself. Whether 
it was that my movements, which were quite visible 
to him, stirred the quick senses and wits of Manuel, 
or whether the mestizo’s head betrayed itself in an 
unwary moment, I do not know. But the next things 
I was aware of were the report of a gun, smoke 
ascending from near Manuel, and the figure of the 
mestizo in flight. He ran among the boulders with 
incredible speed, dashing up the gorge. My feet 
disabled me from following, but Manuel plunged after 
the man, and I saw them disappear round a pro- 
jecting rock, and vanish from the plane of sight. I 
went back to the passage in disappointment and alarm. 
The enemy had not gone, and the chances now were 
that they would learn where we were concealed. I 
waited anxiously for the return of Manuel, only to 
have my fears confirmed. The half-breed had shown 
a clean pair of heels, and had vanished in the upper 
reaches of the gorge, where it was broken into a 
score of narrow channels. And thus we were forced 
to sit down and wait on fate. 

This came within the next two hours, in the form 
of a visit from Werner and Houston and Jeff. One 
of the Indians, Pedro, was on guard in the passage 
entry, and gave warning. 


260 


The Big Fish 

“ If you enter, Werner, we fire,” I shouted, as soon 
as I perceived who the visitors were. 

44 It ’s all right, Poindexter,” said he. 44 No vio- 
lence intended. We want a confab. Talk ’s the 
word. Bury the hatchet, meanwhile.” 

I turned this over, and then I said : 44 1 ’ll let you 
come in, but not Houston.” 

Werner waddled forward, though Jeff made an 
effort to detain him, and spoke in a low tone in his 
ear. Werner shook him off, and came direct to us, 
with a grin on his face. Houston sat down leisurely 
on a rock in full view. 

44 Think I don’t know my Poindexter,” said Werner, 
as he came up. 64 That ’s the sort of blind man I ’ve 
got to work and play with. Now, Houston took it 
like a lamb. It ’s a deuce of a pity he ’s so crooked.” 

44 Do you think he’s going straight now?” I 
asked. 

Werner’s grin faded, and he looked back, even a 
little apprehensively. 44 Damn it, he ’s got to,” he 
growled. 44 We ’re rowing in the same boat.” 

44 You remember the old joke?” I said. 44 With 
different skulls? You’re clever enough and dogged 
enough and brutal enough, as I have reason to know. 
But you ’re not on Houston’s level.” 

He scowled, for I believe he was jealous of Hous- 
ton. 44 Let ’s get to business,” he said. 

44 Come in, Werner, come in,” I said, limping 
forward. 44 Excuse me if I go slowly, but my feet are 
rather painful. You see I was badly mauled yester- 
day by a bird of prey. You know those creatures — 
vultures. They abound in the Andes.” 


261 


The Cleft in the Rocks 

His brow constricted. “ Look here, Poindexter,” 
he said, “ this might be all very well in a club, but 
we ’re at serious grips here. You know it was all in 
the game. I don’t know how you managed to escape, 
but, anyhow, I reckon we ’re only a day short.” 

“ Your reckonings have been out more than once 
before, Werner,” I reminded him. 

“ Oh, shut down,” he said. “ There ’s no need for 
all this finessing. You know what we want.” 

“ What you want is the moon,” I said. “ It ’s 
about as likely to be found as the Big Fish.” 

“ Miss Varley knows where it is, and we ’re bound 
to know also,” said he. 

“ I want you to understand this clearly,” I an- 
swered; “Miss Yarley knows that the treasure was 
removed, and that ’s the end. There ’s no deal.” 

“ There will be,” he said grimly. 

“ Miss Varley is leaving here to-day, and is going 
down to the coast,” I told him. “ I don’t think I 
have anything further to say to you, except that if 
I find my vulture, I ’ll have a shot at him.” 

He made a movement, and I lifted a hand. “ Be 
careful, Werner. You are covered. You have been 
covered ever since you set foot in this place. I don’t 
want any one else to shoot my vulture.” 

He drew back. “ You ’re not talking sense,” he 
said. “ We hold you in a cleft stick. All we want 
is the information where the treasure is. I ’ll even 
undertake you shall share in it, though we could 
squeeze you out, anyway.” 

“ The treasure is not yours,” I said. “ It ’s no 
one’s. If I knew a thousand times where it was I 


262 The Big Fish 

would n’t tell you. Better give up, Werner. Cut 
your loss.” 

44 Do you think, man, I ’m going to go back on 
what I ’ve worked for for twelve months ? ” he asked 
angrily. 44 Don’t be a fool. You can’t move me. 
Raymond had the chance and failed. I take it up.” 

44 But Raymond’s daughter will see that you don’t,” 
said a voice behind us, and turning, I saw Mercedes, 
her eyes flashing, her face under the color of her 
anger. I made an exclamation, but she was not look- 
ing at me. She held Werner under the fury of her 
gaze. 

44 Raymond’s daughter ! ” he gasped, and added : 
44 Well, I’m damned!” 

44 Your negotiations are useless,” said Mercedes. 
44 Why waste time with him ? ” she asked me. 

44 You have your answer, Werner,” I said. 

He nodded, not yet recovered from his surprise. 
44 That makes it easier,” he said. 44 Now, we know 
you know.” 

Mercedes looked at me for the first time, and I 
seemed to read a question in her eyes. 

44 Clear out ! ” I said promptly. 44 Miss Raymond 
is right. We waste time. Any dealings we have with 
you will be of another color.” 

44 Yes ; I believe you ’re right, Poindexter,” he 
said slowly. 44 Anyway, I ’ve done my best. My con- 
science is clear,” and he turned and waddled back 
through the passage, with this amazing bit of irony 
on his lips. 

44 Did I do right? ” cried Mercedes, when he 
had gone, and I had not the heart to deny her. 


263 


The Cleft in the Rocks 

Yet I knew that now for certain these vultures 
would not leave us. They would hover about and 
attack us. 

The attack, the first attack, came within the next 
hour. You will have seen that we had the advantage 
of position, and I do not think they realized the 
strength of our force. To them we were merely 
two women, one white man, and the usual mild 
Indians, who would resign at a blow. They had not 
reckoned on the tumultuous spirit of Mercedes, nor 
on Manuel, who was an invaluable ally, Manuel it was 
who, on watch at the entrance to the passage, espied 
the enemy creeping along the wall. They had ad- 
vanced under the shelter of an abutting bluff which 
shut out the view of the upper gorge on this side of 
the stream. Manuel perceived them as they turned 
the corner and emerged into view, and, shouting 
to me a warning, he discharged his gun. The fore- 
most man fell, but several others crowded over his 
body and came up with a rush. I had joined Manuel 
at his call, and was in time to meet -this charge. We 
both fired, and the blast of the weapons at such close 
quarters stayed the assault. Miguel, who was in the 
front, spun about, and limped, and a half-breed stum- 
bled forward on his face. Shots from the party went 
by us harmlessly, cracking on the wall of rock. 44 It ’s 
certain death, Werner,” I shouted. Come on, if 
you want it.” 

He growled out an oath, and under the menace of 
our barrels the marauders turned and fled, the 
wounded staggering in the rear. The noise of the 
guns had brought Mercedes from the interior fast- 


264 


The Big Fish 

nesses of the camp, and she hung upon my brief 
narrative almost breathlessly. 

44 What will they do next ? ” she asked. 44 They 
won’t give up — those men. What will they do 
next? Oh, ought I to have told them? You’re 
not wounded, nor Manuel? I’m glad, I’m glad! 
But what ought I to do? Was any one killed? It ’s 
their own fault, is n’t it? ” 

There was this sheerly feminine nature under the 
marble of my Lady of the Snows. She was brave, 
but she had the woman’s dread of war and all its 
horrors. So for the matter of that had I, but a 
man in the eager exchange of blows and wounds 
is in another case. Everything these ruffians might 
suffer was richly deserved. I had no mercy nor com- 
passion for them, particularly as I knew we had not 
seen the last of them, and I spent the rest of the 
day in anxious waiting. Nothing happened. We saw 
no sign of the enemy, and night fell with her 44 train 
of stars,” night which was deeper night to us, buried 
within the channel of those aspiring walls. Guard 
was kept without ceasing, for it was night that I 
feared. The second attack was delivered about two 
in the morning. 

It came with a rumble of sound from all sides of 
the entrance, as if there was a concerted attempt to 
confuse us. This I believe was exactly what Werner 
had designed. Voices on one side and another, inco- 
herent shouts drew our attention. We fired at ran- 
dom, as at ghosts, but it was impossible to see a 
yard in front of one, and no doubt the shots went 
wide. A light flared forty paces away and went 


265 


The Cleft in the Rocks 

out, after eliciting Manuel’s fire. Laughter mocked 
us out of the darkness, and we could only wait and 
wonder, with a growing sense of anxiety because 
the enemy refused to declare himself. 

We had been on this nervous rack for some twenty 
minutes before the assault came. It was, no doubt, 
preconcerted, and I traced Houston’s hand in it. 
From several quarters the rush took place, and 
though Manuel and Pedro and I fired several times, 
it was impossible to be sure that our volleys were 
effective. I discharged my revolver in a wide arc, 
and Manuel’s fire seemed to me to be concentrated 
on one particular spot. The sound of the firing on 
both sides ricochetted from cliff to cliff, and boomed 
dully down the gorge, drowning all other sounds. 
I caught a glimpse of a black figure, as it had been 
an evil shape flitting through the obscure shades of 
an Inferno, and then Manuel’s rifle barked, and was 
silent. Silence seemed suddenly to have fallen. There 
was a groan behind me, and I turned and found 
Pedro’s head against the rocky wall, where he had 
fallen. “ They have gone,” said Manuel. “ There 
is one fallen, two fallen, more.” 

He retreated a pace or two into the passage, and 
under shelter struck a light. Pedro’s face looked 
deathly, but Manuel surveyed it without emotion. He 
lit a lantern and walked out of the passage into the 
open gorge. I could see his light shaking as he 
walked, making him a conspicuous object for a rifle. 
But Pedro demanded all my attention, and I called 
help and succeeded in getting him to the tents. He 
had a bullet through his body, and I judged that 


266 


The Big Fish 


his case was hopeless. Mercedes, pale but resolute, 
bathed the wound, and Mrs. Chester assisted her in 
her kindly ministrations. But Pedro was going. I 
knew it, and I was sad for the faithful soul, whom 
white men had thus done to death. Manuel returned, 
and a new guard was set. He had found two men 
dead, out among the rocks, and we knew that several 
others must have received wounds. Our fire had been 
close and deadly. Manuel seemed to have cat’s eyes. 
There was no fear that the gang should return that 
night. They had had their dose. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE BOMBARDMENT 

I T was, nevertheless, an unquiet night that we passed, 
and I think neither Mercedes nor Mrs. Chester 
slept at all after the engagement. I walked once 
to their tent and replenished the fire, and a soft voice 
called to me. I drew nearer the tent, and a hand 
was placed in mine. 

“ Is all well ? ” she asked, in a whisper. 

“ I ’m awake,” said Mrs. Chester’s voice from the 
enclosed darkness ; and “ Oh ! ” cried Mercedes. 

They came out of the tent, and sat by the fire 
which burned brightly. Mercedes’ wonderful hair was 
down about her neck and secured with a ribbon. She 
looked very girlish, and I marvelled at the tenacity 
of purpose which had brought her through all these 
discomforts and perils, and was now exposing her to 
this new and final danger. 

To while away the time I told them some tales of 
my adventures in the back parts of Europe, and of 
the treachery and cruelty of those barbarous people 
there. 

“ We can’t boast, after all,” said Mercedes, 
“ though we are Occident of the Occident. Look at 


268 The Big Fish 

the creatures our civilization has produced — is pro- 
ducing ! ” she waved her hand toward the cliff. 

44 Yes, but those are the by-products of civiliza- 
tion,” I said. 44 In those Danubian provinces, what 
we see is the normal product. It is the average. 
Thank God, we are ashamed of our ruffians ; they are 
our failures.” 

Thus unintentionally, you see, our thoughts had 
worked round to our present condition ; and, seeing 
that they had flowed thither almost against our will, I 
gave up the attempt to divert our minds, and we 
spoke freely. I think it was the darkness, the en- 
vironing night that opened our hearts in that talk. 
Mercedes spoke of her father, and of her girlhood, 
of Yassar, and of her friends in New York; and we 
spoke of Cassilis, too. I summed him up as the finest 
and truest friend a man might dare to hope for in 
this world, and Mercedes said : 44 1 liked him from 
the first; even when I thought you were wicked, I 
think I liked him and fought against it.” 

There was a gentle sound of tears in the silence 
which ensued. Mercedes leaned toward me, and I 
saw her beautiful eyes wild with the light of the fire. 
44 What if it had been you! ” she whispered. 

Queen of Snows ! This living, warm, passionate 
heart testified in ridicule of my early interpretation 
of her, and had lept into flame in response to my 
kindling — how marvellously ! 

So passed the night away, not wholly without its 
solace and its comfort. 

The following day we remained eagerly on the 
watch, but we saw nothing and heard nothing of the 


The Bombardment 


269 


gang. We even ventured forth from the cliff, and 
gave burial to the two hapless half-breeds who had 
perished in carrying out the nefarious plans of their 
white masters ; bribed by heavy promises of gold, I 
did not doubt. Poor Pedro lingered on through the 
day, and died at sunset, and his departure impressed 
us with a deeper melancholy. Darkness descended, 
and found us a gloomy camp. The very silence of 
the enemy seemed to be in itself somehow a threat, 

— ominous. I had guards mounted carefully, and, 
having snatched some sleep in the afternoon myself, 
resolved to stay awake in anticipation of emergencies. 

Overhead was the loom of the wall of rock, which 
ran upward into an invisible black sky. In effect, we 
were in the base of a deep pit, bounded by great preci- 
pices. From our well, I could just make out a star or 
two in the void above, which seemed but a patch of 
extra blackness laid across the top of the pit. I was 
sleepy, for my rest had only been of short duration, 
and I lay back with my face to the roof of sky. 
There was a large star of the first magnitude on 
the very margin of the pit’s mouth, or it may even 
have been a planet. I watched it for a few moments, 
and then my eyes closed, and I must have slept. It 
was owing to a sub-conscious feeling of responsi- 
bility that I awoke — I daresay only a few minutes 
later. My weary body struggled with the sense of 
duty, and at last surrendered. I stared up, eyes 
wide-open directed upward. Something puzzled me 

— a memory. Then I knew. It was the star. Where 
was the star? I could not have slept so long that it 
had crossed the ceiling and disappeared upon the 


270 


The Big Fish 

other side. I sat up in distress at this thought. It 
could not have vanished in cloud, for its neighbors 
were shining still. I stared; and as I stared, sud- 
denly it shone out once more, almost in the identical 
place in which it had hung when I nodded. I rose, 
my thoughts alert. Something had obscured the star 
for a time. What could it be? I got my field glasses 
and concentrated them on the top of the pit. Some- 
thing was moving there. I could not make out what 
it was, but the light from the stars was sufficient 
to show me a black shadow against the blacker walls 
of the mountain. I woke Manuel, who was snatching 
his rest, and together we studied the object. For a 
long time it was impossible to come to any determina- 
tion about it. I conjectured it to be a condor, but 
a moment’s consideration put that idea out of court. 
No condor would bulk so large at that height, and, 
moreover, no condor would be astir in the dead of the 
night. Sometimes the object faded from view, gath- 
ered, I judged, into the profound darkness of the 
cliff ; but at other times it was visible, a lighter 
shadow, still moving downward. It was depending 
from the inmost wall of the cliff, and to the base of 
that Manuel and I went to keep watch on it. The 
darkness below, however, in the shadow of the wall, 
was greater than that above, and soon we lost the 
thing; it dropped into depths of space, in which 
nothing was to be disentangled from the general 
obscurity. Still we kept our posts, waiting, ex- 
pectant. 

And now at last there was a noise audible in the 
stillness, not a loud noise, but a thin creaking, as of 


271 


The Bombardment 

strained cordage, accompanied by an occasional rasp- 
ing and dull bumping. Then there was a heavier 
bump, as of the fall of a body, and after that 
silence. I signed mutely to Manuel, and we moved 
outward from the cliff base at a little distance from 
one another. Was it a figure I saw, or was it merely 
a trick of one’s eyes ? I darted forward, and grasped 
— a human arm. The next second I had the man 
pinned, so that he could not move. 

“ Strike a light,” I called to Manuel, and after 
a momentary pause the match flared. 

I was staring into the face of Coop ! The match 
went out, and I bade Manuel bring the lantern. 

“ Yes, it ’s me right enough,” said Coop easily. 
“ By gum, your hand ’s like a vice. Cheese it, Poin- 
dexter ; that ’s where I got my gunshot.” 

That seemed to remind me of events a whole gener- 
ation away. 

44 And so you ’re servant of the man who shot 
you ? ” I said sneeringly. 

44 All in the whirligig of time, you know,” said 
he lightly, as Manuel arrived with the lantern. 

I examined this strange specimen. His face was 
thin; and he was evidently by no means restored to 
health, but he grinned in my face and his eyes were 
as bright and impudent as ever. 

44 What ’s brought you back, man P ” I asked. 
44 You ’re a fool for your pains all the way round.” 

44 Well, I had to look after my interests, I guess,” 
he answered jauntily. “ I didn’t quite like trusting 
it all to chance, you may say.” 

44 Were n’t sure of Werner, eh? ” I asked. 


272 


The Big Fish 


44 Poindexter, you can put it how you like.” 

44 You ’re a fool,” said I, speaking sadly, 44 for 
you ’re a dead man now.” 

44 I shaved it once. Maybe I ’ll do it again,” he 
replied imperturbably. 

Meanwhile Manuel had been making an examina- 
tion, and now reported that Coop had descended in 
a sort of cradle, roughly put together, in which he 
had either lowered himself or been lowered by others. 
I had no doubt that it was a concerted design, and 
I assumed it. 

44 Well, anyway, we ’ll begin by preventing your 
friends from joining us,” I said, and instructed 
Manuel to cut loose the cradle. 44 1 fancy we ’ll be 
able to give them a welcome if they try again.” 

Coop said nothing, but watched Manuel philosoph- 
ically. I had relieved him of his pistol, and I held 
him covered with mine. 44 It was n’t a bad notion,” 
he remarked presently, with dispassionate regret. 
44 How did you spot me ? ” 

44 You had the misfortune to blot out a star,” I 
said. 

He laughed. 44 Rough luck ! He died from blot- 
ting out a star. It would make a touchin’ epitaph. 
Look here, Poindexter, be a sport over this. I ’ll 
toss you double or quits.” 

44 1 don’t understand,” I said. 

44 1 ’ll pass my word to clear out, if I win. If I 
lose, you can shoot me and plant me.” 

44 1 don’t think you understand, Coop,” I ex- 
plained, 44 but you have lost already. You ’re a 
doomed man. We can’t afford to have scruples.” 


The Bombardment 273 

“No; I don’t think many of them have been 
knocking about this trip,” he said cheerfully. “ Well, 
lead on. I ’m mighty cold. Have you got a nip 
about you? ” 

Manuel had completed his work, and we turned 
back to the camp, a hundred yards away. I was 
sorely perplexed by Coop’s presence, and I had a 
resurgence of the awkwardness which the sight of 
the half-breed had caused me. What was to be done 
with this man who so persistently refused to take 
things seriously? When I reached my tent, having 
taken precautions against another surprise from the 
skies, I was weak enough to fetch out a whisky bottle. 
Mercedes had included a supply against emergencies, 
and this was the second occasion on which it had 
been drawn upon. The thought had its ironical side. 
Coop sipped his drink with zest, and, having filled 
a pipe, smoke and talked. 

“ It turned me up a bit when I found Houston 
hobnobbing with Werner, I ’ll admit,” he said affably. 
“ I ’ve got a grudge against him, and I ’ll pay it 
some day. He don’t play fair. But Werner ’s a 
gentleman, though a bit rough. I don’t know that 
I ’d pin my faith on any one of ’em exactly. Any- 
how, I had to come up as soon as I could move, and 
see what was what. I could n’t abide laying in bed 
doing nothing. And then to think of Miss Varley! 
Lord, it ’s a caution ! ” 

“ Miss Varley befriended you when you would have 
surely died,” I reminded him. “ Miss Varley is now 
being attacked murderously by your friends.” 

“ Oh, as for murderously,” said Coop, “ it seems 


274 The Big Fish 

to me you can’t complain. You have three scored 
up to your account. Werner was pretty mad.” 

“ If footpads attack me, I can’t be responsible,” I 
said. 

“ Well, anyway, what ’s to be done. Are you game 
to toss ? ” he inquired. 

“ I have no room or time to waste on you,” I 
said. “ So far as I can see, you ought to be under 
the turf — well, rocks — by dawn.” 

“ Lord love me, and you a quiet English gentle- 
man ! ” said Coop, and so incongruous did the state- 
ment sound that I could have laughed aloud. But 
my eyes were arrested. Mercedes had come out of 
her tent, and was moving towards us. 

“Is all well?” she asked, and suddenly, as Coop 
straightened himself in the presence of a lady, she 
stopped. “ You? ” she asked wondering. 

“ Mr. Coop has joined his friends,” I said, “ and 
he is now a prisoner of war.” 

Mercedes went towards him, until her eyes looked 
into his, for he had risen shamefacedly. 

“ I found you ill and dying, Mr. Coop,” she said. 
“ I tended you with my own hands, binding up your 
wounds ; and I sent some of my servants to carry you 
on a litter down to the coast that you might receive 
treatment and save your life. You lied to me. You 
made it so that I was instrumental in setting a des- 
perate party of scoundrels on an innocent man’s 
trail. What have you to say to that? No, wait ! ” she 
said, holding up a hand as he would have spoken. 
“ And now you have come back to take up arms 
against me, me, who have only done what I could 


The Bombardment 27 5 

to be kind to you. What have you to say to that, 
also? ” 

I think that last indictment furnished him with 
the chance to slide off on a quibble. 

44 1 never knew you were in this, when I started 
up,” he said in an uneasy voice. 44 1 never knew it 
until afterward, or I would n’t have told.” 

44 Told?” asked Mercedes haughtily. 44 What do 
you mean? ” 

44 About this place,” said Coop. 44 You see I 
spotted people up this gorge as I came along look- 
ing for Werner, and though I did n’t know where 
you were hanging out, I guessed there was an outfit 
hereabouts. So Werner lay low, sent out spies, and 
waited, and waiting cotched you.” 

44 So it was you,” said I. 44 This looks more than 
ever like the signature of the death-warrant.” 

But suddenly Mercedes took action with the char- 
acteristic decision of her sex. She stretched out her 
hands to him in a gesture which I found beautiful. 

44 Mr. Coop,” she said, 44 I rescued you once, and 
gave you a chance for life. I give it you again. Go ! 
You are free. I ask nothing of you except what your 
own conscience may demand. You have come back to 
me in war, and I give you back your life, which was 
forfeit. God knows what is in your mind to do, 
but I pray that He will influence it. You who come 
in war may go in peace.” 

The man stood for a few moments unable to speak. 
In the light of the fire I could see his face, and it 
was working curiously. At last he turned in an 
awkward way, and touched his cap. 


£76 


The Big Fish 

64 I ’m sure I ’m much obliged to you,” he said 
sheepishly. 44 1 don’t think — well, so long ! ” And 
he shambled off toward the entrance. 

Taken by surprise as I was by what Mercedes had 
done, I saw the necessity of carrying the affair to 
a conclusion, and, knowing that our prisoner would 
never pass the guard, I followed him, and escorted 
him through the passage. He did not speak until 
we were in the gorge, and then he asked abruptly: 
44 Are you linked up there ? ” 

I understood him. 44 It is my great privilege,” I 
replied. 

He whistled softly, meditatively. 44 You ain’t a 
bad sort on the whole,” he said. 44 But you ’re not 
worth that, not by a barrow-load.” 

44 1 agree,” I said. 44 But it is only by the conde- 
scension of woman that man receives anything.” It 
was odd, but it did n’t seem odd, for us to be dis- 
cussing my relations with Mercedes. 

44 Oh, well, so long ! ” said Coop after a pause, sud- 
denly disappearing into the night. 

I went back, and Mercedes came to me penitently. 

44 1 did wrong. I ought not to have taken the 
authority out of your hands,” she cried, 44 but it 
came over me, somehow. I did just what something 
told me to do.” 

44 My dearest,” said I slowly, 44 I should n’t wonder 
if you did just what was right and suitable.” 

I had been turning over in my mind the possibilities 
of the situation, and somehow this incident of Coop 
had seemed to have in it something more human than 
most of the things that had happened. Coop, with 


277 


The Bombardment 

his very vulgar human qualities, seemed to help us 
to keep in touch with ordinary life. I did not regret 
Coop’s release. As I looked on it now, it appeared 
to be the only solution possible. 

With double guards and sentinels to watch the 
ramparts, we passed through the rest of the night, 
and at dawn I took a little rest. I was awakened 
from this by a terrible clamor in my ears, and, sitting 
up, I thought the whole ravine was full of thunder. 
No sooner was I on my feet than Manuel rushed up 
and began to speak rapidly and with unusual excite- 
ment. A rock had fallen into the edge of the camp 
from the heights above. Even as he spoke, I looked 
up and saw a huge stone in mid-air. It struck a 
projection of the wall and rebounded, struck again, 
and crashed down upon the rocky base of our retreat, 
breaking into a thousand scattering flinders. Re- 
verberations filled the narrow chasm, and set the 
drums of the ears in a roar. 

This was no accident of nature. It was the latest 
stratagem of our determined enemy. As we stood 
helpless, watching, a third rock was rolled over, but 
from another point in the rampart, and, speeding on 
its terrible flight, fell upon one of the tents, destroy- 
ing everything that was in it. Another and another 
followed in quick succession, until the tents of the 
Indians which had been set up in that part were a 
mass of debris. In one of them a hapless man had 
been crushed to death. It was impossible that this 
should go on. 

I took Mercedes and Mrs. Chester out of the zone 
of danger and established them under a ledge in the 


278 


The Big Fish 

cliff, where they huddled together in distress, and 
listened to the cruel bombardment. 

The chasm, as I have stated, was narrow through- 
out, being at no place more than forty or fifty yards 
across; and it was obvious that no part of it could 
be perfectly protected from the danger of flying 
splinters of rock. The scene, indeed, approached in 
its hazards to the bursting of shells on a battlefield 
within a confined space. My anxiety for the safety 
of the ladies can be well imagined. At each fall I 
looked into the corner where I had placed them, with 
eyes fearful for what might have happened. And 
indeed I had cause enough. As I afterwards found, 
Werner and Houston had spent the bulk of the night 
in rolling huge rocks up to the mouth of the cavity, 
and one by onp they tumbled these over, leaving the 
wretched victims below no breathing space. Some mis- 
siles went wide, falling into the stream, where they 
split harmlessly; others, dashed into fragments by 
collision with the cliff, descended in a shower of hail- 
stones; but the more deadly fusillade consisted in 
those which dropped into the camp, and scattered 
destruction and injury among the human creatures 
collected. 

This lasted half an hour, and long before that I 
had seen to what I was being driven. That was the 
ugly thing — surrender. I think what finally de- 
cided me was not the death of one of the Indians, who 
was all but cut in two by a slice of flying stone, but 
the narrow escape Mercedes had. Had she not at 
the moment been leaning back against the ledge, the 
fragment of granite, driving with the force of a bullet 


The Bombardment 279 

from a gun, would have killed her instantly. Then 
it was that I gave in. I went through the passage- 
way, and out on the gorge, with the standing rocks 
as their cover, were Werner and Houston, and others 
of their party. 

“ I hoist the white flag,” I called. “ I submit. 
Call off your men at once.” 

Houston put his hand to his mouth and emitted 
a shrill whistle, like the blast from a miniature siren. 
I think he had been expecting this denouement, and 
was prepared. The arch-rogues walked toward me 
together, an ill-fitting pair, and I awaited them. 

44 You understand. I give in if you call off your 
men,” I said. 

Werner nodded. 44 My dear man, we don’t want to 
kill you all. That would n’t suit our book at all.” 

Houston was scrutinizing me curiously, I did n’t 
know why. 

46 We must insist on the usual formalities, Poin- 
dexter,” he said; but it was to Werner and not to 
him that I handed my pistol. They entered the cleft 
after me, and at my word the Indians laid down their 
arms. They looked frightened and uneasy, and I 
daresay they were glad to be relieved of an unwelcome 
duty. Everything was quiet overhead. Houston took 
off his hat to the ladies. 

44 1 ’m sorry we have put you to inconvenience,” 
he said. 

Werner paid no heed to them. He was keeping an 
eye on the disarmament. 

44 You ’ll pay for this some day,” I said savagely 
and bitterly. 


280 


The Big Fish 

“ It ’s not over yet,” he returned curtly. “We ’ll 
pay what price is necessary.” 

I could not see any sign of Manuel, and I feared 
that he had been one of the victims of the bom- 
bardment. 

Mercedes looked at me pitifully. “ Is it all over? ” 
she seemed to say. But, as Werner said, it was n’t. 
We were captives, but it was as yet uncertain what 
was to come next. 

“ I suggest an adjournment,” said Houston pleas- 
antly. “ This is not a nice scene for ladies.” 

In silence we made our preparations for departure, 
taking such of the mules as had escaped, and in 
silence we wended our way out of the chasm, and up 
the gorge to the camp of our captors. With what 
embittered feelings I went under the yoke you may 
conjecture. We were prisoners of war, but how 
would we be treated? 

I wondered — and I feared. 


CHAPTER XIX 


PRISONERS AND CAPTIVES 

T HERE was no sign of Manuel. That was the 
strange thing. He had not been struck by the 
stones, as I found from inquiries I made, but he had 
vanished completely. I had, however, no time to 
consider his fate, for it was evident that the gang 
designed to act forthwith. Indeed, we were no sooner 
in the camp than Werner opened on us. Of course 
I had anticipated what would be their demand. They 
wanted the secret of the Big Fish. As it was known 
to them that Mercedes was Raymond’s daughter, they 
had no doubt that she was in his confidence. They 
supposed, I found, that it was she who had removed 
the cache, and I think this supposition increased their 
respect for her. They began mildly. 

64 It ’s time we came to business, Miss Raymond,” 
was how Werner put it, bluntly but inoffensively. 

Houston twirled a cigarette in his fiiigers, and 
listened. He was a subordinate for the moment, and 
gave way to brute strength. 

44 1 think I can speak for my associates,” con- 
tinued Werner, 44 when I make you an offer, — an 
offer I made once to Poindexter. Give us your in- 


282 


The Big Fish 

formation, and you shall take a toll of the treasure, 
and call all things square.” 

Mercedes had recovered from the nervous shock 
of the bombardment, and was in possession of her 
old spirit. Her eyes flashed. 

44 You think I am going to put it in your power 
to get the treasure after the wicked and abominable 
deeds you have done? ” she asked indignantly. 

Houston looked at his nails critically. 

44 I do,” said Werner grimly. 

44 Let us begin in proper form,” suggested 
Houston suavely. 44 Miss Raymond, I ’m sure, 
would prefer that. In the first place, you will 
please understand, Miss Raymond, that we are 
quite determined to lay our hands on the Fish. 
You may make that so to speak, your major 
premise, as logicians say. Take it as absolute. 
It 9 s a mere question of time and method. Of 
course we should greatly prefer that the method 
should be of our mutual choosing, one of common 
consent, if you follow me.” He paused. 44 But 
we are quite prepared for other eventualities, as ” 
— his eyes moved to me — 44 as Mr. Poindexter 
knows.” 

I started up in a fury of passion, but realized my 
helplessness. Both these men were armed, and they 
were indifferent to me. 

44 Accept, then, Miss Raymond, our assurance,” 
proceeded Houston, in his leisurely way, 44 that we 
would much rather settle the affair in a friendly 
fashion. I want you to think it over. There ’s no 
immediate hurry. Look round the edges of the posi- 


Prisoners and Captives 283 

tion. Consider how you stand, and the profit and 
loss of it all. Strike, if I may advise you, a balance- 
sheet, and then answer. I think I can promise that 
consideration will repay you. You know the situa- 
tion. What do you advise Miss Raymond, Poin- 
dexter? ” he ended, with cool assurance, turning 
to me. 

I was staggered. His cunning question put at 
that moment bewildered me. I knew not how to 
answer, for God knows what terrible imaginings were 
in my head. I realized the savage and unscrupu- 
lous nature of these men who, in their lust for gold, 
had become as callous as fiends of the Inferno. 
What would they not dare? What would they not 
d'o? I shuddered as I looked at Mercedes in all her 
proud beauty. Scorn was swelling her delicate nos- 
trils as she met my gaze, scorn of that question, 
of that appeal, of these vultures who were gathered 
about their helpless prey. 

44 Miss Raymond,” I managed to say, and I was 
conscious of stammering, 44 requires no advice from 
me. When she asks it, I will give it.” 

I knew she would ask nothing then; her passion 
was moving her deeply. 

44 It is I who have to decide,” she said, 44 and I 
have decided. I will never consent. You are the 
men who drove my father to death; and you have 
been the cause of the deaths of many others by hor- 
rible treachery and violence. I would think shame 
of myself if I dared to bargain with you. You have 
my answer.” 

Houston was listening without a trace of expres- 


284 The Big Fish 

sion on his face, but Werner’s features settled into 
a morose scowl. 

“ Very well,” he said menacingly. “ Very well. 
It ’s up to us now,” and, raising his voice, he called 
to Jeff, who conducted Mercedes away. I would 
have followed, but was stopped. 

“ No, I guess not, Poindexter,” said Werner, “ not 
just yet. I want a chat first. The lady ’s all right 
at present. I know you ’re a sensible fellow. Sit 
down and talk.” 

I waited expectant, fearful, and Houston regarded 
me quizzically, as he smoked. 

“ You ’ll see, of course, the impossibility of the 
situation, Poindexter,” he said in his friendliest 
manner. “ Here is primitive man on one side, mean- 
ing Werner, without offence, and on the other, deli- 
cate woman, far from primitive. The two don’t go 
together, somehow. It ’s only a question of time. 
It ’s obvious to you, I suppose, that it must end in 
the one solution. You have already some notion 
of our friend’s ways.” 

I was in a cleft stick. What was I to say? I 

was afraid for Mercedes. What was any treasure 

worth beside her safety and her immunity? I knew 
not what steps they proposed to take in the event 
of her continued refusal, but I was sure they 
had their plans, and were certain of their success. 

If I could have slain the ruffians at that moment 

by a movement I would have made it, and seen 
them gladly dead at my feet. But all I did was 
to steady my voice, and contain my passion as I 
replied. 


Prisoners and Captives 28 5 

44 You must give me time to think — you must 
give me time.” 

44 Oh, I think we ’ll begin at once,” said Houston 
easily. 44 It will save time. You can go on thinking 
all the same.” 

44 Begin at once ! ” I echoed. 

44 Why, yes ; we can’t afford to stay here indefi- 
nitely,” said he. 44 There ’s the question of supplies, 
also. Werner, you ’d better put in operation what 
you ’ve settled.” 

He rose. 44 1 ’ll give her one more chance, here 
and now,” said Werner, and made off in the direc- 
tion of the tents. I was left solitary, and it seemed 
for the moment that these people were so contemptu- 
ous of any potentiality for harm on my part as to 
leave me free. I found, however, so soon as I began 
to move that I was watched. One of the mestizos 
was within a dozen yards, and was armed. He fol- 
lowed me when I walked on. I paced the length of 
the camp distraught with uneasy fears, praying for 
some guidance in this very terrible situation. Should I 
see Mercedes, and persuade her to yield? Would she 
be persuaded in her indignant fury ? As I went, I de- 
scried Coop at some distance, and I made toward him. 

44 Hulloa ! ” he greeted me, and stuck his hands 
in his pockets. 44 So you got it in the neck? ” 

44 Was that your idea, — the rocks?” I asked 
sternly. 

He shook his head. 44 Houston’s. No, I’m tired. 
I started out too soon. I should be in hospital 
now.” He yawned. 

44 Werner got the key?” he asked. 


286 


The Big Fish 

“ No ; Miss Raymond will not deal with mur- 
derers,” I said. 

There was a pause. “ But I reckon you ’re in the 
know,” he said. “ You ’ll have to cave in. They 
mean business. I should n’t wonder — ” 

“What? ” I asked sharply, as he stopped, but he 
turned his head. 

“ Oh, I don’t know — nothing in particular. But 
if I was you, Poindexter, I ’d own up. It is n’t pos- 
sible not to. You can’t keep silence. Good Lord, 
Werner ! And Houston ’s worse.” 

“ Miss Raymond refuses,” I said hoarsely. 

I walked from him, and I saw him looking after 
me with an odd expression. I went to the tents, and 
was endeavoring to discover where Mercedes and 
Mrs. Chester were, when Werner emerged from one 
of the canvases. 

“ Well,” he said, addressing Houston, who was 
with him, “ that settles it.” 

“ Yes, you can go ahead,” said Houston softly, 
and looked at me. 

I don’t know quite to this day what part they 
meant me to take in this crisis, though I think I 
have made a near guess at it. I am sure, however, 
of one thing, and that is that one or other or both 
were anxious to put immediate pressure on us, and 
that I was tortured spiritually now, as I had been 
tortured physically before, to that end. I was to 
be worked upon so greatly that I should surrender, 
or persuade Miss Raymond to surrender. 

“ Get back! ” said Werner to me, and, raising his 
voice: “Coop, take this man away, you fool!” 


287 


Prisoners and Captives 

Coop had come up behind me, and he put a hand 
on my arm. There was a queer expression on his 
face, and I did not know how to read it. 

“ Better come quietly,” he said harshly, and beck- 
oned the mestizo over. 

I allowed him to lead me away. God knows I 
was playing an inglorious part, was cutting an igno- 
minious figure, but I was desperately helpless, desti- 
tute even of a shadow of a plan. 

I sat with my face in my hands, thinking for 
hours, wondering if it were possible to strike terror 
into this hideous camp of lawless men by one singu- 
lar act of violence that should overawe them. But 
I was alone, and I was unarmed. Our Indians were 
under guard, and even if they had not been, they 
would have been useless at this juncture. I sat in 
my allotted place with the watchful guard, and the 
sun passed across the meridian, and the time went 
by, and the shadows fell, and I was not aware of 
it. What was happening? 

When I looked up once or twice I saw Jeff eyeing 
me curiously. Did they realize how I suffered, and 
what I was going through? What did Werner’s 
words portend? I had made up my mind at last. 
Whatever was happening, even if nothing had hap- 
pened, I must act, I must speak. Though I should 
go counter to all the purposes of Mercedes, and 
violate her wishes, I must speak. I could endure 
the suspense no longer. I demanded to see Werner, 
and, faced by him, noted his cruel jaw. 

“What have you done with Miss Raymond?” I 
asked him hoarsely. “Where is she?” 


288 


The Big Fish 

44 What affair is it of yours ? ” he asked gruffly. 
44 Go back to your dreams, man. I Ve no concern 
with you.” 

44 But — but — by God, Werner, you must tell 
me,” I shouted. 

He turned away. 44 1 ’ll see about it later. You ’ll 
be receptive enough then — and Miss Raymond also. 
I reckon we shall come to some terms in an hour 
or two.” 

He was resolved to break me, to break us both. 
I saw it now, and I understood the diabolical cun- 
ning which was Houston’s rather than his. I had 
nothing before me now but hours of torment. I 
went back to the rack, and suffered. 

Night descended in a swoop like a vulture, black, 
ravening night to hide these evil deeds. That was 
the mood in which I looked at it, I, who saw all 
things in a horror. I know better now. I know 
how deeply I have reason to bless that kindly night. 
I was in the folds of its darkness, with gloomy 
thoughts, waiting the arrival of Werner. I felt he 
would come, when my spirit had been broken. Well, 
it was broken now. He would come and take my 
surrender. I was resolved on that, whatever Mer- 
cedes might think or wish. I could endure the strain 
no longer. 

He came, but it was not as I had expected him 
to come, not in that conquering mood which I had 
anticipated. He came to the accompaniment of 
shouts and noises, of wild cries and exclamations, 
of sounds of a camp in disorder. 

He threw open the flap of the tent in which they 


Prisoners and Captives 289 

had placed me, and the light of a lantern was 
flashed on me. 

“ It was n’t you, then ! I thought it could n’t have 
been. By — ” 

His face, showing in the red light, was a working 
horror, possessed by all the deadly passions. 

44 What is it? ” I demanded, for I was not afraid 
of him, and I took him by the throat. Something 
had happened to Mercedes. 44 Where is Miss 
Raymond? ” 

He flung away from me. 

44 Escaped, damn her ! ” he said, and broke into 
savage oaths. 

My heart leaped lightly from its pit of bitter- 
ness, and I smiled in his face. Mercedes gone ! That 
was the hugest satisfaction I could receive. All 
my anxiety and all my suffering were of no account 
now, had been worth the purchase of this news. 

I wanted to know more, but for the moment I 
rested content in the general thought, exulting on 
that captive breaking from her prison. 

44 There ’s some treachery at work, or she has the 
craft of the devil. She escaped before — ” Wer- 
ner’s bull voice was rolling on almost unheeded. 
But memory brought me up. Was it Manuel? Had 
Manuel escaped from the net which had been cast 
for us, and was he repeating his earlier feat when 
he rescued his mistress from Werner’s clutches? 

As these thoughts were passing in my mind, some 
one came out of the darkness. It was Houston. 
Werner flung the lantern forward to see who the 
newcomer was, and it revealed to me a transfigured 


290 


The Big Fish 

face which I should hardly have known for the man’s. 
It was yellow in the light, his nostrils were puffed 
out, and his eyes aflame. His face was like that of 
an enraged wild beast. 

“You’ve let her go? She’s escaped?” he 
snapped. 

“ H — take you! It- was n’t me,” said Werner, 
biting back savagely, and the two faced each other 
like snarling dogs ready to spring. 

“How was it?” asked Houston, controlling him- 
self with an effort. 

“No one knows. She was in the tent with the 
other, and Miguel was on guard. He saw nothing. 
It was pitch-black, of course ; but how could a 
couple of women make off by themselves? Some one 
gave them assistance, some one who knows the camp. 
Two mules have gone also. By thunder, if I find 
the man — ” 

“ Miguel knows nothing — saw nothing ! It ’s 
incredible ! ” said Houston. 

“ He swears there was no sound. He sat by the 
fire all the time.” 

“ Bah ! the man ’s a fool. He was drunk or some- 
thing. If it had not been Miguel I might have sus- 
pected him, but he ’d never throw his chances away 
for a woman.” 

“ Oh, it was n’t he,” said Werner impatiently. 

Houston was silent. “We must hunt all night. 
She can’t have gone far,” he said. “ Anyway, we ’ve 
got a hostage.” 

He looked at me, and so did Werner. Their in- 
sensate fury had abated, and now when they looked 


291 


Prisoners and Captives 

at me it was as with cold consideration of butchers 
at a victim who is to be slaughtered. But my heart 
exulted. I did not care. Mercedes was free of their 
infamous hands. 

They left me in rigid custody, and the whole camp 
was awake and in a hullabaloo all night. I, on my 
part, slept for the first time for more than twenty- 
four hours ; and I think I passed a more restful 
night than I had done for many days. I awoke to 
a sense of the sun, and a brisk wind which plied 
upon the mountains. The camp had settled down 
again; guards were stationed, fires were alight, and 
the business of the morning meal was in progress. 
I caught sight of Werner in the distance, but he did 
not come near me, nor was I visited by any one save 
my guard, who was now one of the half-breeds. I 
breakfasted with quite an appetite, when I received 
my allowance at the hands of an Indian, and I sat 
down comfortably, waiting on fate. No one came 
near me for hours. I saw Werner go off with some 
of his men, and by that I knew the hunt for Mer- 
cedes was still going on. Somehow, I knew she 
would not be found. I had regained faith. The sun 
grew in power, and was shining very hotly by mid- 
day, when Coop came, bringing me food and water. 
He sat down and watched me eat. An Indian stood 
on guard a dozen yards away. 

“ Peckish? ” Coop inquired, and I grinned at him. 

“ Easy conscience, eh?” he went on. “ For my 
part, I ’d like a glass of bitter with my meals. Lord, 
I have n’t touched a bottle of Bass since I was 
aboard the ship. I pine for it.” 


292 The Big Fish] 

He regarded me curiously. “ Ain’t you satisfied 
now? ” he asked. 

I nodded. “ I am content. I don’t mind Houston 
or Werner, or even Coop.” 

He gave a grin. “We did have a pretty rough 
time,” he said appreciatively, “ and I should n’t have 
got much change out of you, Poindexter.” 

I reflected. “ No; I don’t think you would; but, 
on the other hand, if I had known what I know now, 
I fancy you might.” 

He chucked his thumb toward his shoulder. 
“Meaning Houston? That’s so. Well, I’ve 
squared up a bit with Miss Raymond, anyway.” 

“What do you mean?” I asked, staring. 

He chuckled, glanced at the Indian, and winked. 
“Nice little game last night! Nutty, eh?” 

“What?” I stared still, comprehension dawning 
slowly on my brain. “You! You mean it was 
you? ” 

“ Rather ! 99 said Coop. “ What do you think? 
You see I ’m a trusted party in this biz. I ’ve proved 
myself, suffered in the cause, don’t you know. I 
can take liberties, even with almighty Werner, and 
I don’t care two cheeses for Houston. I owe him 
one. He ’s a snake. He fights with poisoned tips. 
Anyway, no one would think of suspecting Coop, 
so Coop does the trick, and appropriates the ginger- 
bread, old man, what? ” 

“ I am deeply indebted for this, Coop,” I said 
earnestly. “ It wipes out all scores between us. Tell 
me how you managed it.” 

He evidently looked back upon his performance 


Prisoners and Captives 293 

with relish. He had always relished our encounters 
on the trail up, I believe. 

44 Oh, it was n’t mighty easy,” he said. 44 Miguel 
has a chump of a head, but he ’s a nasty Spanish 
temper. I played some silly carmine game with him, 
and we had a drink. It was n’t quite a square drink, 
for there was something in it, a drop of stuff I had 
from the doctor away down there. He don’t know 
a red cent what happened to him, or anything about 
it at all. I ’d got the mules ready in the dark, and 
one of your Indians. It was a sporting chance, any- 
way, and it came off, by the Lord.” 

“ Yes, they ’re not caught yet,” I said, but I 
marvelled that they had succeeded in eluding cap- 
ture, these two women and one attendant. Then I 
reflected on the cleverness of the Indians in the topog- 
raphy of the country. Perhaps that accounted for 
their security. 

64 No, they ’re not caught yet, but you are,” said 
Coop, looking at me with interest. 44 There ’s one 
thing I had to do, Poindexter. I had to tell ’em 
you were free, and would meet them.” 

44 You are right,” I said, and added: 44 They ’re 
welcome to me.” 

44 1 say, don’t you know? Ain’t you in the secret? ” 
inquired Coop in dismay. 

In that cry I saw the limitations of his generosity 
and of his sacrifice, and I smiled. 

44 If I knew anything,” I said evasively, 44 the secret 
would not be mine to give away.” 

He pondered. 44 1 reckon you ’ve worked for it 
as much as any one,” he said sagaciously. 44 But 


294 The Big Fish 

if you know it, it ’s bound to come out. I know 
Werner.” 

That took my thoughts back. “ What happened 
to Miss Raymond?” I asked. “What did they 
do?” 

He shuffled his feet. “ Oh, I don’t know,” he re- 
plied impatiently. “ It ’s yourself you ’ve got to 
think of now. I say ware wire. Verb sap! as they 
say in Latin.” 

When he left me, I fell back upon my reflections, 
which were not wholly disagreeable, and between 
those and dozing in the heat of the day, I got 
through the afternoon. 

It must have been an hour before sunset that the 
messenger came from Mercedes, though of course 
I did not know he came from her till later. I did 
not recognize him. He was not one of the Indians, 
and his appearance was strange, his dress differing 
from the Indians of the lower valleys and punas 
who had constituted our several parties. He was 
fully visible to me, as was everything that went on, 
for he emerged from the wilderness beyond in the 
charge of Diego, my old enemy. I learned after- 
ward that Werner and his two lieutenants were all 
engaged in the search for the ladies. 

At any rate, Houston held the camp in the hollow 
of his hand, and Diego brought him this Indian. 
The interview took place within earshot of my tent. 
Houston spoke in Spanish, but the Indian shook his 
head; he tried the Cholo dialect, of which he knew 
a little, but the man did not understand. He made 
a gesture of his hand, and held out a piece of paper 


Prisoners and Captives 295 

to Houston, who took it, wondering. He turned it 
over, and then exclaimed. Then he read it, and I 
saw his face lighten, and set slowly into a cast of 
resolution. 

He put the paper in his pocket, and said something 
in a sharp tone to Diego. Both disappeared, and 
I saw no more of them. I saw no more of them nor 
any one save the silent guard, for the next two hours, 
by which time twilight was fast falling. Then Wer- 
ner returned, and Jeff and Miguel straggled in after 
him, from other points of the compass. Coop, too, 
had been absent, but not on the same errand. He 
was regarded as being on the sick list. I gathered 
from their attitude and disposition that they had 
had no luck. 

When he had refreshed himself, Werner came over 
to me, and gloated over his secured prisoner. 

44 Well, we start business with you to-night,” he 
said. 44 There ’ll be no further escapes. We ’ll take 
you later.” 

I yawned. It was the best I could do to show 
this man my contempt for him. Jeff came up at 
that moment, and Werner turned. 44 Not found 
him ? ” he asked, and cursed. 44 What the mischief 
does he want going off like this? There might 
have been an accident, with only the half-breeds 
here.” 

44 Diego ’s gone, too,” said Jeff, 44 and two of his 
Indians. Jago says they took mules.” 

Werner went off in an explosion. 44 What fool 
business is this? ” he cried, and seemed to turn over 
things. 44 1 guess he ’ll be back presently,” he said. 


296 


The Big Fish 

“ I suppose he thought he ’d got a clue. We ’d 
better wait for him.” 

He stumped away toward the tent in which I un- 
derstood Maddock lay recovering from his wound. 
He entered the tent, and some time later I saw him 
disappear into the darkness which was settling down. 
I retired to my tent, and tried to sleep. They were 
waiting for Houston before beginning upon me. I 
listened for sounds which would indicate his return, 
but I heard none. The camp remained in stillness; 
and so I sank peacefully to sleep. 


CHAPTER XX 


THE SURPRISE 

I WAS awakened by a great commotion, and I got 
upon my feet. The camp was in an uproar ; guns 
were going off, and men were shouting and running 
to and fro. The whole place was a scene of gross 
disorder under the faint starlight. I ran forward, 
and found no guard to stay me. Figures, visible 
in the firelight, were moving about, apparently in 
confusion. It was a little time before I arrived at 
a comprehension of the situation, and then it was 
by an accident. What I understood at once was 
that the camp had been attacked, for the report of 
guns was sufficient to make this clear. 

But what I did not at first realize was the nature 
of the enemy, against whom Werner’s gang was 
making so deplorable a stand. It was the whistling 
of an arrow past my face that opened my eyes to 
the truth. The assault was being delivered by a 
foe armed with primitive weapons, which, screaming 
out of the darkness upon the unprepared camp, had 
spread wide consternation. I heard shouting amid 
the gunshots, and I guessed that Werner and his 
associates were endeavoring to rally the terrified 
Indians, but in these there was no heart. It was no 


298 


The Big Fish 

business of theirs, this sanguinary conflict in which 
the brutal and mysterious white men were involved, 
and they refused, scattering before the flight of 
arrows, and seeking refuge among the boulders. 

So far, I had seen nothing of the assailants ex- 
cept their missiles, but that was to be altered pres- 
ently, and in an amazing way. Werner and his men 
had given up the attempt to put heart into the In- 
dians, and had established themselves behind a ram- 
part of rocks, from which they maintained a steady 
fire at the invisible foe. Cries reached me in the 
intervals of silence from the tent in which Maddock 
lay, and though I had no reason to feel for the man 
anything but hatred, I was drawn by the elementary 
feelings of compassion to go forward in response 
to his unhuman wailing. 

I crossed the open ground, necessarily exposing 
myself to the arrows, and had all but reached the 
tent when the unexpected happened. It had been 
my intention to reassure him, to advise him that his 
safety lay in silence, and in remaining where he was, 
that his companions risked more by their situation 
in the fighting line. But sheer terror must have 
dragged the hapless wretch from his bed. He 
emerged from the tent, staggering, giddy, wasted 
and gaunt, and ere he had taken two steps, and 
while I was yet a dozen paces away, he went for- 
ward on his face, with a shaft through his heart. 

I ran toward him instinctively, passing one of the 
blazing camp-fires. Away to the right, and out of 
the darkness, I heard a voice crying aloud, and I 
stopped, bewildered by a memory — a recognition. 


299 


The Surprise 

But before my thoughts could settle and concen- 
trate on an identification, a tall figure sprang towards 
me out of shifting and indeterminate shadows. Was 
it possible? Was it conceivable? Was I moving in 
a dream? 

No, there was the voice and the figure, too. 

44 Jack! You ’re safe then,” was what came to me. 

44 Dick! Dick!” I cried. 44 My God! Is it you? 
Back from the dead ? ” 

44 Jack, it was a miracle, a miracle! I ’ve no time 
now. Come ; you ’re in the danger zone here, open 
to two fires. Who’s that?” He indicated Mad- 
dock’s body. 44 One of the gang. We ’ll wipe them 
all out like that. But come away. Who ’s that? 
Werner? Where ’s Houston? Tell me where Hous- 
ton is.” 

At this moment I caught sight of figures advanc- 
ing out of the darkness, and a flight of arrows 
screamed in the air towards Werner’s barricade. 
Cassilis called out an order, and a dark form sprang 
towards us, lean, fine, his face alive with the pas- 
sion of battle. It was Manuel. 

44 Take them, dead or alive,” said Cassilis, point- 
ing to the white men. 44 Let the other poor devils 
go. Keep the attack off them.” 

He advanced as he spoke towards the boulders 
behind which Werner and his companions had taken 
refuge, and I followed, reckless of risk. Silence 
had now fallen, and the effect was strange. When 
we reached the barricade we saw what had hap- 
pened. The body of Miguel, pierced by an arrow, 
lay on the ground, and Werner and Jeff stood with 


300 The Big Fish 

empty weapons, like beasts at bay, waiting for the 
last. 

Cassilis shouted an order to Manuel, and the flight 
of arrows ceased. He turned to the two men, who 
were standing side by side, prepared to fight hand 
to hand till the end. 

“ Why did you break faith? ” he asked. “ Is this 
Werner? Who ’s that? 99 

I told him. 

“Why did you break faith? Where’s Houston? 
Miss Raymond trusted to your honor to release 
Poindexter in return for her communication.” 

I listened in amazement, for, remember, that this 
was the first inkling I had that the letter Houston 
received had come from Mercedes. Ideas began to 
flow swiftly in my head. 

“ What do you mean ? What communication ? 99 
asked Werner in his heavy, harsh voice. 

“ Why, I mean the letter she sent, giving you 
information as to the Fish in return for Poindexter’s 
release. She trusted to your honor, the honor of 
thieves and murderers ! That ’s why I ’m here, 
fools that you are.” 

Werner uttered a deep oath. He had received an 
ugly flesh wound in the neck, and the blood was 
running from it. Mechanically he mopped at it 
with a handkerchief, while he let forth a string of 
horrible oaths. 

“ Houston ! By — , Houston ! It was Houston 
got the letter, by — ! You ask me why I broke 
faith ! I got no letter. Houston got it, by — , 
Houston ! ” His voice broke almost into a whimper ; 


301 


The Surprise 

he was so passionately moved. Houston had the 
secret, and had fled and left him to his fate, left 
him to perish in this attack. This was his final, his 
crowning act of treachery. He sobbed out the words 
in a terrible way. 

44 Houston ’s gone? ” asked Cassilis. 44 It ’s Hous- 
ton I want, not you. Where ’s Houston? 99 

44 Houston ’s got the secret. Houston ’s got the 
Big Fish,” cried Jeff, realizing suddenly, and curs- 
ing like his chief. 

44 Where ’s Houston ? When did he go ? 99 de- 
manded Cassilis, and received no answer from the 
two infuriated men. It was I who told him. 

44 Then he ’s had all these hours’ start. He has 
the secret, and only Miss Raymond knows it besides 
him. We must go back to her.” 

44 Where is she?” I asked, surprised at nothing 
now. 

44 About two hours distant, in a safe place. We 
must go back to her.” 

44 Yes,” I said, for I longed to do that, 44 but these 
men can go free.” 

He stared at me. 44 Why?” he asked. 44 Well, 
if you like. They ’re not Houston.” 

44 1 ’m going to tell them where Houston is,” I 
said. 

Werner had ceased his curses, and was mopping 
his neck. He heard the word Houston. 

44 Let me put my hands on that man — ! ” 

It was spoken with horribly constricted passion. 

44 You shall,” I said. 44 After all, there must be 
some executioner. Fate demands instruments.” 


302 


The Big Fish 


In the gorge where our camp had been destroyed 
were several gulches, which debouched upon the main 
channel, and added to the volume of the torrent. 
Mercedes and I had proceeded up one of these to 
the black lake of which I have written, the lake that 
lay in the circle of hills, and dribbled its waters into 
the canon. It would take nearly two hours to 
reach the lake, and Houston must have arrived there 
practically at nightfall. He could hardly have re- 
covered the treasure during the night; all he could 
have done was to make exploration and preparation. 
He was probably engaged at that very moment, 
heedless of all else. 

44 The Fish lies in the lake high up in the third 
ravine on the left side of the gorge yonder,” I said, 
plainly and slowly. “ You will find Houston there.” 

Werner put a hand on my arm. 46 Is this genu- 
ine? ” he asked. 

44 Yes,” I said. 

44 Then, if it is genuine, give me arms,” he said 
fiercely. 

44 You shall have arms,” I said. 

44 Yes,” said Cassilis gravely, 44 you shall have 
arms, if you are quit of this place within ten 
minutes.” 

44 Give me arms and a mule, and I ’ll go within 
two,” said Werner. He waddled off, and he stopped 
to call back to us : 44 1 ’ll play your game. You can 
leave it to me”; and then he and Jeff were lost in 
the darkness. 

Cassilis said suddenly: 44 You sent him. I had 
reserved that for myself. If you knew — ! ” 


The Surprise 303 

“ Dick, I guess,” I replied. 44 Yes, I sent him. 
We do not want our hands in this.” 

44 But the Fish!” he exclaimed. 

44 We do not want the Fish,” I said soberly. 
44 There is a curse on the Fish. There are things in 
life more valuable and more precious than the Fish. 
Let the Fish lie where it is appropriate for it to lie 
— in the waters of the Black Lake.” 

44 But they will get it, these men, one or other of 
them,” he protested. 

44 1 wonder.” 

He was silent a moment, and then his duties as 
leader of the party recalled him to a sense of 
responsibility. 

We spent an hour in doing what was necessary, 
in burying the dead, and in succouring the wounded, 
and then we got together the remnant of the mules, 
and, collecting the Indians, moved down the valley. 
It was not until then that I was able to have any 
connected talk with Cassilis. You will remember that 
I had last seen him stumbling by the stream, and 
had lost him down the face of a cataract. Well, 
here is his story. 

44 When I was sent on by Houston, on that specious 
plea of 4 trigging ’ the ground to get bearings, I 
crossed the next 4 nullah,’ as they call those rocky 
valleys in India, and wound over the face of the 
hill. I fancied I could see you as I looked back.” 

44 1 saw you,” I said. 

44 Well, we went on for some time under Diego’s 
direction, and I could not help wondering what on 
earth a half-breed Indian could know about sur- 


304 


The Big Fish 

veying, or topographical measurements. But that 
did n’t very much occupy my mind. Presently Diego 
gave an order which resulted in the Indian’s trailing 
out in another direction, and leaving us, while we 
continued our way down the side of the hill on which 
we were. That made me curious, and I asked Diego 
what we were after, adding that we could not now 
take any observations of your place, as you were 
not in sight. He explained that we were to get to 
the top of a hill a little farther, where we should 
be in full view, and able to do what was necessary. So 
my suspicions, which had never really reached the 
height of suspicions, abated, and I went cheerily on. 

44 The next thing I was aware of was a blow from 
behind, and after that I knew no more.” 

Cassilis paused and drew a long breath. 44 My 
God, what evil creatures ! An unarmed and harmless 
man, your associate and partner — stabbed from be- 
hind! The foul creature undoubtedly left me for 
dead, and piled a cairn, as he thought, upon my life- 
less body. I don’t know how long I remained there, 
nor how I managed to survive. The man returned 
at dark, like a bird of prey, to feast on what he 
imagined to be the carrion he had left.” Cassilis 
paused again. 44 1 have, in thinking it over, come 
to the conclusion that he returned to rifle my pockets, 
which he had forgotten. That must have been the 
reason, unless he came to assure himself that I was 
dead, which is not so likely. Anyway, the removal 
of the stones, and the disturbance had the odd effect 
of bringing back consciousness to me. I cannot 
remember more than struggling to my feet, and see- 


305 


The Surprise 

ing a figure approaching me. In my faint condi- 
tion, I only recognized in this a danger. You say 
it was you who called to me. To me it was Diego, 
and I fled from him with all the force of the vitality 
I could command in my broken body. I must have 
gone over the cliff, but fallen only a little way, and 
the cold water roused me from my torpor. 

64 1 don’t know how I succeeded in getting down 
the face of the cliff. I retain only a vague recol- 
lection of my wanderings that terrible night. Re- 
member, I had a dangerous knife wound which, it 
was found out afterwards, just missed a vital place. 
But I think the cold water or — I don’t know what 
— saved my life by stopping the hemorrhage. I 
was in a state of half-consciousness all the time, and 
I suppose, indeed I have no doubt, I should have 
succumbed, if the Indians had not come upon me. 
As a matter of fact, they found me stretched out 
upon the rocks more dead than alive. It had been 
my last effort. 

44 They carried me to their village huts, and care- 
fully tended me. Jack, I owe my life to those poor 
Indians, a simple, primitive folk who trace their 
origins to the ancient Incas, and who regard as 
sacred anything connected with their ancient his- 
tory and their ancient religion. That was what 
maddened them about the priest.” 

44 The priest!” I echoed. 44 Was it those Indians 
who rescued you? ” 

He nodded. 44 The Indians of Astarnok. I was 
lying in one of the huts when Houston was search- 
ing among them for the priest. I was concealed by 


306 


The Big Fish 

my Indian friends, who feared this white man and 
his gang. The Cholo Indians were strange to them. 
They have no racial affinities. Yes, I lay there, and 
came slowly back to life. The wound healed rapidly, 
but it is by no means well yet. But events forced 
me to action. I learned, one way and another, of 
Houston’s doings, and of Werner. I even gathered 
that you were still with the gang, and I wondered, 
realizing that Houston must have marked both of 
us out for death. I could, of course, get no word 
to you, for I had nothing to write with, and the 
Indians’ language was unknown to me. But pres- 
ently I found that the village was in a terrible state 
of excitement, and I succeeded in discovering why. 
Ingres, their chief, who had the sacred duty of look- 
ing after the temple ruins, had been murdered; and 
the murderer was one of the white men. 

“ That is about all, except this. One day a strange 
Indian appeared in the village, and I recognized him 
at once as Manuel. You may guess how eager and 
delighted I was to see him. I obtained all the news 
of Miss Varley — I mean Miss Raymond — and Mrs. 
Chester from him, and learned of the attack, and 
what had befallen you. He had escaped from the 
pit in which you were overwhelmed, and was casting 
about for some way to aid his mistress. That had 
brought him to the Indian village. And see how 
fortune favored his errand in the nick of time. He 
found the Indians thirsting for vengeance, and he 
promised them what they wanted. 

“ They fitted out a hurried expedition, and de- 
parted, and I went with them. Then this surprise 


307 


The Surprise 

followed. Manuel, hanging about these scoundrels’ 
camp to reconnoiter for operations, came upon Miss 
Raymond and Mrs. Chester making their escape.” 

44 It was Coop,” said I. 

44 Yes, Coop ! ” he said. 44 1 shall never deny again 
the possibility of miracles. My rescue was a miracle, 
and Miss Raymond’s escape was a miracle. What 
has touched that stony heart? ” 

44 Coop is not of that class,” I said, for I had 
begun to understand the cockney. 44 He is not a 
ruffian, nor even a villain by nature. He is only 
what he would call 4 a sport ’ ! ” 

44 Well, anyway, he did one good action, which 
shall go to his credit. Manuel took us to the ladies’ 
hiding-place, which was snug enough in a cave, and 
there I learned more, and that you were still in the 
hands of the gang, and about that torture. If I 
had one debt to pay before, Jack, now I had two. 
We set out, found the camp unsuspicious of any- 
thing, made our nocturnal assault and — here we 
are.” 

As he finished, he turned and listened, as did I. 
There was a sound behind us, a voice rising out of 
the darkness. We had been traveling for the better 
part of an hour now, and we stood in wonder as 
to what or who this could be. The next moment a 
mule blundered down on us, and Coop’s voice called 
out. 

44 1 say, who the devil are you? I’m lost. I 
don’t know where the deuce — Hold the beast, 
some one.” 

The mule staggered, and the man fell off in a 


308 


The Big Fish 

heap against me. I helped him to his feet, but he 
was very weak, and trembled. 

“ Oh, it ’s Poindexter, is it? I dunno but I ’m 
glad. I ’m pretty sick. I got one of those damned 
arrows in me. Where the dickens is Werner and 
Co. ? Lucky I tumbled on you. I ’d no idea where 
the brute was taking me.” 

I examined him, and found he had a flesh wound, 
and had probably lost blood, but in his already 
weakened condition this might prove dangerous. We 
got him back upon the mule, and secured him there, 
and proceeded on our way. Coop was querulous at 
first, with an attempt at gaiety, and then fell silent, 
and, I guessed, unconscious. It was in this way that 
we reached the cave in which Mercedes and Mrs. 
Chester had been lodged by the faithful Manuel. 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE BLACK LAKE 

M ERCEDES met us at the entrance, and though 
I could not see her face, I was conscious of 
a silent exchange between us as our hands met and 
our spirits mingled. The pulsations of her feeling 
passed through that contact into my very blood, and 
I read her soul like an open book. 

“ You are safe? ” she cried ecstatically. “ I feared 
it was too late.” 

“ The danger was for you, dear,” I answered. 
“ Yes, we are safe, all of us, and I think no risk 
can touch us now, not, at least, from those cruel 
adventurers.” 

She put her face to mine. “ I prayed for you all 
night,” she whispered. “ I was ashamed to have 
left you so. But they told me you were free, and 
I should find you. That man, Coop, assured me so. 
How I hate him ! ” 

“ Poor devil, he did his best,” I said. “ He could n’t 
release both of us, even if he had wanted to.” 

66 When I knew,” she went on breathlessly, u I was 
like something mad. I felt I had given you up again 
to torture. I would have gone back, but Manuel pre- 
vented me. And then I thought of sending the secret, 


310 The Big Fish 

and bidding them free you in return for it. But 
they played me false, and I sent out Manuel and Mr. 
Cassilis and the Indians.” 

“ Dearest,” I said, “ it was Houston,” and I told 
her the story. 

She listened gravely, and then sighed. “ They 
had not begun to — to torture you?” she asked 
wistfully. 

“No, or rather they had; for their torture was 
mental. I feared for you. I was afraid of what 
they were doing to you. What did they do, dear 
heart ? ” 

“ Nothing,” she said quickly. “ They did noth- 
ing. They told me it was you they would — operate 
on — was the horrible way they put it. They said 
they would give me till the evening, and then begin. 
I had determined to give in, but Coop came and set 
us free, and said you were free also.” 

“ That was it, then,” I said, seeing the plan wholly 
for the first time. “ They were using us one against 
the other. I, too, had made up my mind to tell them 
even against your wishes, and I would have done so 
if the news of your escape had n’t arrived. It was an 
ingenious plan, and I think I seem to see the hand of 
Houston in its cruelty as well as in its ingenuity.” 

The night was full of stars and peace; the roar 
of a distant cataract was dulled to a murmur in 
the ears, and the cool breeze fanned our faces. We 
spoke of many things, of Cassilis and his miraculous 
escape ; and Mercedes associated Mrs. Chester’s name 
there. 

“ Freda is another woman,” she said softly. “ She 


The Black Lake 311 

is no longer the tragic figure. I am glad — so 
glad.” 

“We can be glad in their gladness,” I said, and 
then, realizing that I had not told quite all my story, 
I went on: “ When I told Werner about the lake, I 
had an object. Perhaps I was wrong.” 

“ You wanted to satisfy him,” she said. 

“ No ; if you think, you will see we had no longer 
any cause to be concerned with his enmity. He was 
impotent. I told him the secret; and I gave him 
arms.” 

She was silent a moment, and I was afraid. There 
was nothing in the world I dreaded so much as her 
disapproval. 

“ Then they will meet — those men,” she said at 
last, slowly. “ What will happen P I don’t know 
— I think — Dearest, I have n’t any longer a sure 
mind. Perhaps you did right.” 

“If ever any man deserved death for his crimes, 
it is Houston,” I said. 

“ Yes, yes, I know. His life is duly forfeit. All 
my mind is clouded with a doubt. I think — oh ! ” 
she said suddenly, holding on to me. “ I don’t know, 
but I think I want peace in all the world now, peace 
and forgiveness — even for those terrible men.” 

This time it was my turn to be silent a little ; and 
then I said: “ You ’re right, as always.” I turned. 

“ Where are you going? ” she asked. 

“ I ’m going to undo the mischief I did,” I said. 
“ I ’m going to the Black Lake.” 

She cried out at that, dear heart, to have all her 
peace disturbed. But I insisted, and, calling up 


312 The Big Fish 

Manuel, I made preparations hastily for departure. 
We took two mules, and, as we were setting out, 
Mercedes joined us, and announced her intention of 
coming with us ; nor would anything I could say dis- 
suade her. Cassilis we left in charge of the cave, for 
he was still very weak, and Mrs. Chester was tending 
him, and the unfortunate Coop. 

The night was far spent when we started, and 
dawn was across the eastern peaks when we defiled 
through the gully, and entered the basin in which the 
lake lay. The dark water lapped silently on the rocky 
beach from which Mercedes and I had formerly sur- 
veyed it. It had still that ominous look, that brooding 
sense of oppression affecting the spirit. 

44 It was under that cliff,” said Mercedes. 44 That 
is where my father sank the treasure. There is a 
ledge there, his letter said, one fathom deep, and 
he sank all the treasure there and covered it with 
stones.” 

We moved towards the cliff she pointed out. No 
one was visible — nothing with life in it as far as 
the eye could see, on the shores, and on the environ- 
ing chain of heights which rose about the lake. The 
cliff was black and jagged, and curled over at the 
summit, but a slip of foreshore ran between it and 
the water, and gave us access to the hiding-place of 
the Big Fish. We peered down. The rocks about 
us were splashgd with water, and mud was scattered 
everywhere. It was evident that some one had been 
here and at work. 

44 These are Houston’s traces,” I said. 44 He has 
been here. The question is whether he has succeeded. 


313 


The Black Lake 

It is odd that no one is visible. I had certainly ex- 
pected to find signs of Werner.” 

Mercedes was peering down into the water. 44 It 
is dark,” said she. 44 I can see nothing. What if he 
has found the treasure? ” 

She looked at me doubtfully, almost with regret 
upon her face. I bent down and peered into the lake, 
but my eyes could not penetrate the obscurity. I 
went back to the open, and hunted about until I 
found a pole which had been the branch of a tree 
that grew in the sheltered hollows; and, armed with 
this, I returned and probed the waters. The pole 
went down into the deeps until I had exhausted the 
length, and still I had not touched bottom. I stood 
up. 

“Are you sure the ledge was here?” I asked 
Mercedes. 

She was positive. “ I can repeat my father’s letter 
almost word for word,” she said. “ 4 On a ledge of 
rock just under the curling cliff upon the left hand 
of the pass as you enter.’ There can be no mistake 
about that, can there? ” 

“ No,” I assented, and inquired: 44 Were there any 
other particulars for guidance? ” 

44 Only this,” said she. 44 The ledge was a fathom 
down, as I have told you.” 

A fathom! My pole was at least ten feet long, 
and the water was still unplumbed. I reached a con- 
clusion. 

44 The ledge has broken away,” I said. 44 It is no 
longer here. Possibly the water has sapped it, cor- 
roding the rock, which seems of a soft material.” I 


314 


The Big Fish 

examined the cliff. It was of a marly nature. “ Yes,” 
I went on, “ the ledge has given way under the action 
of the water, and has sunk in the lake. Heaven knows 
how deep is the water here. It does not shoal any- 
where apparently.” 

Was that then the solution, we asked ourselves 
mutely: that the Big Fish was sunk in the abysmal 
depths of this dreadful lake, lost to the sight of man, 
and beyond his recovery? I looked along the broken 
line of cliffs and dark headlands. The wind in those 
quarters prevailed from the east, and came down the 
pass upon the waters of the lake. The scour of the 
water would go westward and along the headlands 
where the rock was, as I could see, already much 
undermined in parts. That body of water would 
move inwards, and drive or carry its sediment and 
debris with it. We moved away from the spot, full 
of our own private reflections. 

“ What do you think has happened ? ” asked 
Mercedes. 

I shook my head. “ I will explore a little farther 
with Manuel. It is clear that the treasure has eluded 
Houston, but where is Werner? ” 

I found a little, quiet recess where I established 
her and the mules, and then I proceeded with Manuel 
up the hills to the right of the lake. 

We had not been gone more than half an hour 
when I was startled by the swift and sudden rising of 
something in front, and a hideous vulture swept on 
its wide wings toward heaven. I watched it float and 
drift, and hang above the black waters. It seemed 
somehow to characterize the place, to be emblematic 


The Black Lake 315 

of what the scene stood for. Then I recovered my 
thoughts, and walked on, and there was Diego’s dead 
body stretched out in the gray light, his evil face 
to the sky. He had been shot at close range, the 
first victim of Werner’s vengeance. 

As I stood considering this first element of the 
tragedy, Manuel called to me and pointed. I fol- 
lowed his finger, and I thought I discerned a moving 
figure across the lake on the cliffs about three- 
quarters of a mile away. Leaving the half-breed to 
his solitary resting-place, we retraced our steps and 
descended to the pass, where I found Mercedes safe, 
but anxious. I reassured her, said nothing of the 
fate of Diego, and told her that we had finished our 
exploration in that direction, and were trying the 
other side of the lake. 

It took us nearly half an hour to reach the head- 
land on which we had seen the figure, for the ground 
was very rough, and we had to ascend and descend 
many times. But at last we attained a point above 
abrupt cliffs in a little bay in that shore-line, and we 
looked down at the water. The headland abutted 
into it, and descended in a series of rude steps almost 
to the water’s edge. Upon the lowest ledge was a 
man whose identity I determined at once. It was 
Houston, and he seemed busy over some operations. 
I saw him throw out what I took to be a line, as 
if he were sounding. I had some notion of what he 
was about. As I have said, the scour of the water 
under the strength of the easterly winds had washed 
out these cliffs and headlands, and would carry down 
on that side of the lake the detritus from above. 


316 The Big Fish 

Houston had been shrewd enough to see this, and, 
having failed to recover the Fish from the ledge which 
had disappeared, was looking for it lower down, where 
the tides might trawl it. 

While these considerations were passing in my 
mind, Manuel was exploring in the neighborhood, and 
presently, with a grunt, he drew my attention to 
the hills farther to the west. On the crest of one 
of these two figures were advancing, who could be 
no other than Werner and Jeff. The former’s odd, 
square-built body was unmistakable. 

I guessed now what had happened. Werner had 
no knowledge as to the exact point where the Fish 
had been deposited, and having arrived in the night, 
had explored at random, chance taking him up the 
hills on the right. Here the wretched Diego had 
been encountered, despatched by Houston, no doubt, 
upon some errand, and he had been killed out of 
hand. Werner and his companion had then con- 
tinued their journey in search of Houston, and had 
thus made a circuit of the lake. We saw them now 
returning on the final arc. 

I think they espied Houston just about this time. 
They had been moving in a leisurely manner before, 
as men worn out through being afoot all night ; but 
now they quickened their steps, and plunged down 
into a trough in the hills at a run. We lost sight 
of them here, but it was clear to us that they would 
make for the headland on which Houston was. Call- 
ing to Manuel to follow, I began to go along the 
cliff at a rapid rate. My idea was to reach Houston, 
and warn him, but I had the vaguest notion of my 


317 


The Black Lake 

future intentions. I don’t think I saw beyond that 
almost instinctive mission. I went as fast as I could 
for the uneven nature of the ground, but when I 
reached the next height, I saw that Werner and his 
companion were nearer to the headland than I was, 
and must of necessity reach it before me. I began 
to run, stumbling over the boulders, and as I ran I 
shouted. It was some time before they heard me, 
but it did not check them more than for a moment. 
Jeff shaded his eyes and stared up at me, and then, 
with a gesture to his companion, began to hasten. 
They disappeared round a bend on the hill, Werner 
rocking and rolling grotesquely. 

I put on all the speed I could, and got to the sum- 
mit of the headland as the two were tumbling down 
the rough slope beyond. I shouted again, and though 
I thought my voice must have waked the dead, though 
its echoes volleyed from the crags, Houston paid no 
heed. He was stooped over the water playing some- 
thing — a line. It flashed through my mind, in the 
grim, humorous way in which such things do, that he 
was baiting a line for the Fish that lay at the bottom 
of the lake. 

I shouted, but there was no response; and I de- 
scended precipitately to the ledge below. By this 
time Werner and Jeff were very near their victim. 
Again I called, and this time something troubled 
Houston in his preoccupation. I dared not see a 
man go to his death like that. Houston heard, and 
turned, and saw his enemies. They had now reached 
the ledge on which he stood. I saw him put his 
hand in his pocket, and pull it out. There was a 


318 


The Big Fish 

sharp report, and Jeff, who had been leading Werner, 
stumbled and fell on his face. The next moment 
Werner fired. I don’t know if he hit, but, at any 
rate, Houston did not drop. He levelled his re- 
volver again, snapped it ineffectually, and hurled it 
aside. Then he drew a knife, and made a rush at 
his enemy. 

Werner had fired three times, but each time failed 
to put Houston out of action. He fired hastily as 
he ran, and may have missed. Houston’s way was 
surer. As the two men collided, he struck. The 
huge, unwieldy frame of Werner crushed him like a 
shell, in that impact. The pace at which Werner 
had come up carried him on. He fell on the edge 
of the rock with his powerful arms cracking the life 
out of Houston, and the two rolled, locked in this 
death-struggle, over the verge of the ledge, and down 
into that soundless water with a heavy splash. It 
was as if it had opened to receive them; and then 
it closed upon them for ever. A few bubbles issued 
to the surface and broke, and then there was stillness. 
The Black Lake resumed its brooding silence. 

When I had made sure that Jeff also had passed 
beyond human aid, we turned to go back. Fate had 
decided that our mission should prove a failure. Was 
I sorry? Did I reproach myself? I have had my 
doubts sometimes, but I have none now. These men’s 
lives were forfeit, and they perished by each other’s 
hands. If I had not freed Werner, might not the 
evil have been greater? The responsibility rested 
on their own blood-stained shoulders. If any be 
mine, I will willingly bear it. 


319 


The Black Lake 

And so the Big Fish rests in that black and somber 
lake where the protagonists of the tragedy lie also. 
I never regretted the decision we came to, — not to 
attempt to recover it. For all the treasure I want I 
have — in my wife ; and I think, indeed, I know, 
Cassilis is of the same opinion. 

We made a comfortable journey down to the coast, 
with Coop slowly getting back his health. 

“ Bad luck ! Second time I ’ve come down this 
way ! ” he said ; but his spirits were unperturbed, 
and when he had heard the story, or such of the 
story as I deemed it well for him to hear, he re- 
marked reflectively : “ What a rum end ! ” and added 
cheerfully : “ Anyway, we ’ve had a run for our 
money ” ; which, when you come to think of it, was 
an odd summary of the terrible venture. 


THE END 



“ Glows with Life and Action ” 


The Castle by the Sea 


By H. B. MARRIOTT WATSON 
Author of (( The Big Fish” “ A Use of Astra ,” etc . 

Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer. 12mo. $1.50 


It is a swiftly moving, gallant romance, of the sort that 
clamors loudly to be read “at a sitting.” — New York Times. 

A galloping tale of mystery in hidden galleries and secret 
staircases and puzzles and keys and mixed identities and a girl. 

— Cleveland Plain-Dealer. 

The story is full of dramatic situations and perilous escapes, 
admirably told, and the interest is sustained to the very end. 

— Philadelphia Public Ledger. 

A tender love romance interspersed with a profusion of excit- 
ing adventures. An old English castle furnishes the background 
of the story. — New York Herald. 

As a story of adventure it is an unqualified success, for it has 
literary quality as well as unflagging interest of plot and its 
complications. — 'New York Tribune. 

“The Castle by the Sea,” indeed, will be breathlessly de- 
voured by many romantic readers, its exciting combination of 
love, adventure, and humor deserving this success. — Chicago 
Record-Herald. 


LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers 
34 Beacon Street, Boston 


“Brimful of Interest ” 


ALISE OF ASTRA 


By H. B. MARRIOTT WATSON 
Author of “The Big Fish “The Castle by the Sea,” etc . 

Frontispiece by F. Graham Cootes. 12mo. $1.50 

A better Zenda story than Anthony Hope wrote. There is 
no better way to describe this novel than to say it is the best 
Zenda story we ever have read. — New York Press. 

The style is easy, crisp, and vigorous, and the English almost 
unfailingly clear and correct, while the wholesomeness of spirit 
and sentiment is unaffected and refreshing. — Boston Herald. 

From cover to cover “Alise of Astra” is tense with exciting 
incidents of adventure and intrigue. The reader’s interest is 
held in a most amazing fashion to the close of the book. 

— St. Louis Post-Dispatch. 

A capital plot-story of that type of which “The Prisoner of 
Zenda” was the forerunner. The incidents are well invented 
and artfully combined ... it may receive praise for its careful 
construction and its success in maintaining the reader’s interest. 

— Outlook , New York. 

Written with an alertness and vivacity, and alive with extra- 
ordinary, though not incredible, incident that will serve well for 
the passing of the time of any seasoned and exigent novel 
reader. ... In “Alise of Astra” he has produced a master- 
piece of its kind. — Boston Transcript. 


LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers 
34 Beacon Street, Boston 






a p ” o m?. 








